


Daughter of the Sea

by nocleaf



Category: Enderal (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 54,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28484757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocleaf/pseuds/nocleaf
Summary: Another home lost. Her friends and adoptive family dead or scattered. With Civil War in Nehrim on the horizon, Maera fled to Enderal in hopes of starting over with a clean slate. Fate, however, had other plans.
Relationships: Jespar Dal'Varek & Prophet | Prophetess, Jespar Dal'Varek/Prophet | Prophetess, Lishari Peghast/Calia Sakaresh, Tharaêl Narys | Prophetess
Kudos: 6





	1. Stray

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AO3 mirror of my Enderal fanfics from Vynblr, featuring Maera, my Prophetess, and other OCs.

"You poor child."

A voice murmured softly above her. A warmth amidst the chill of the evening rain. She opened her eyes slowly, gazing up from underneath the soaked rags that served as her shelter.

"She can be such a cruel bitch, can’t she…?" An old woman, dressed in velvet and cloaked in white, was kneeling beside her. She had long, curled, graying brown hair, a gorgeous yet modestly painted face, and deep, wine-colored eyes.

"My... lady...?" she spoke meekly, finally, finding her voice.

A thin, wrinkled hand adorned with rings of gold and silver reached down to touch her face. “Such a precious blossom,” the old woman observed, stroking her cheek with her thumb. “with such beautiful green eyes.”

“I…”

“What is your name, dear child?” she asked, simply.

The child stayed silent. Her time on the streets of Ostian had made her wary. She had seen what had happened to the other children who became prey to some unkind adults.

“Do not fear, girl.” the lady reassured her, “I promise I won’t hurt you. What is your name?”

“Maera, my lady,” she answered immediately, fearful of what may happen if she did not.

“Maera...such a cute name for a cute little girl.”

“Thank you, my lady…?”

"My name is Laches, or Matron, as you will soon address me.” The old woman stood up. “Come with me, sweet girl.”

Maera sat up, her gaze trailing after Laches as she began to leave the alley. Should she follow this woman? Could she trust her?

Laches turned to see Maera had not followed her. She sighed, “Come now,” she beckoned the girl with a wave of her hand. “You will no longer spend your nights out here alone."

As though being driven by command, Maera stood up and followed her. “Yes, Matron.”


	2. Thorn

Laches entered the hallway, locking the door behind her. She hung up her cloak upon one of the hooks lining the wall before taking a seat on the bench. She kicked her boots off and placed them underneath, grabbed her cane before making her way further down. She could smell the potions brewing from her lab. The girl was almost done.

“Maera?”

The young girl did not look up from one of the cauldrons lined along the stoves. Her attention was set on stirring the simmering concoction within. “Good afternoon, Matron,” she responded, offering up a quick glance before refocusing. “I’m just finishing this last batch of ointment.”

“Very good, child.” Laches came over to inspect the other mixtures. “And these?” she wondered out loud.

“Cooling. They should be ready to bottle by this evening.”

“Lovely. And the kits?”

“Everything has been split and distributed, as you requested,” Maera responded, pointing at the neat pile of packages lining the table nearby.

“Thank you, child.”

“You’re welcome, Matron.”’

Laches smiled warmly, observing Maera as she continued to work. The girl truly was a valuable asset. Only twelve winters on her, and she was proving to be quite the promising alchemist. The old woman began to wonder what would happen if things were different? If she would allow herself to send Maera away to a proper school or apothecary. Laches tossed the thought away. No, she still needed her, just as much as Maera needed her in return. The girl had a much more different life ahead of her, and Laches needed to make sure she got there.

“My dear, I think you deserve a break.”

“But my lady, I’m almost done.”

“All that’s left for you to do is that ointment. I can finish it and bottle the rest. You’ve been working since sunrise,” Laches reminded the girl, caressing her with a gentle hand on her shoulder, “You need to get up and stretch your legs.”

“Ah...right. Very well, Matron.” Maera set down the ladle on a dish and stood up. She removed her apron and goggles, which Laches received with outstretched hands. “Is there anything you else need from me?”

“Hmm,” Laches thought for a moment, “I do recall that Dio needed another shipment of medical supplies. Perhaps you could bring one of the packages over to him? After that, you are free to do as you please for the remainder of the day.”

“Okay. May I borrow one of the books in the library on my way out?”

“Of course, child.”

“Thank you, Matron.”

Laches watched as the child packed up one of the kits into her bag, giving the old woman a wave and a smile before hurrying out of the room. She turned her attention back on the cauldron Maera had been working on. 

Impressive. It was already done.

\---

“Dio?”

“Puppy? Is that you?” The burly, red-bearded Arazealean man poked his head out from the kitchen. A smile graced his warm round face. “Come on in, child!” he welcomed, beckoning her in with a mitted hand.

Maera took off her shoes and shuffled down the hall to meet him. “I have something for you,” she began, taking the package out of her bag, “Matron said you requested some supplies from us?”

“Oh yes, just put it over there,” he replied, gesturing to the dining table.

Placing the kit down, Maera turned to see Dio taking out a tray of cookies from his stove. “You have the day off today?” she queried, taking a seat by the island counter.

“Matron Laches sent word a few days ago, saying a merchant ship from Qyra will be docking tomorrow. She sent me the passenger list, and some of my regulars will be visiting.”

“So you’ll be busy tomorrow,” Maera reasoned.

“Mhm, I cannot wait,” Dio replied with a gleeful sigh, setting down the tray on the counter in front of her. “I always enjoy playing with the Qyranians. They may not always pay well, but they’re _very_ reciprocal in the bedroom, especially the men.”

Maera blushed, knowing full well what he meant. Dio released an amused, hearty laugh at her embarrassment.

“Ah forgive me, child. I know you are still too young to hear such things,” he took his gloves off, “Look! Cookies!”

“They smell lovely,” Maera replied softly in delight, taking a whiff, “Apples?”

“Mhm, with cinnamon. I have other flavors as well over there. I made them for our clients tomorrow.” he added. Dio pointed her towards the filled baskets by the windows. “Would you like to try one?” He carefully picked one up from the tray with a spatula, tapping it lightly with his finger to make sure it had cooled down enough to eat.

“Sure!” Dio placed the cookie in her hand and she took a quick bite. The chunks of apple were warm and juicy, sweetened with spice from the cinnamon. Maera let out a happy hum in response, “It’s very good! Thank you!”

“When I have time, I can teach you how to make them, if you’d like.” Dio offered generously.

“Yes, please!”

“Here.” Chuckling, Dio took out a piece of parchment and wrapped within half a dozen of the apple cookies. He handed the parcel to her. “Take this as a tip for your delivery. Share it with your brother.”

“Thank you, sir,” Maera replied, stuffing it in her bag. “I should probably check up on Sirius. I haven’t seen him since this morning. I have to figure out who he’s helping out today.”

“Very well.” Dio smiled as she hopped off the stool, grabbing her bag. “Nice of you to drop by!” he added.

“See you, Dio,” Maera waved as she left. “Thank you again, for the cookies.”

\---

It had been a couple hours since she began looking, and Maera began to scold herself for her laziness. 

_‘I should’ve gone home to check today’s schedule.’_

Climbing up the winding stone steps towards one of the Nest’s houses, Maera heard some distant yelling. She turned the corner to see a pair of guards dragging a half-dressed man out from the front door. She could barely make out what he was saying as he slurred and cursed. He was drunk… very drunk.

Laches had come out after the guards. She looked positively furious and tossed the remainder of the man’s clothes on the ground. “Get him out of my sight! He’s no longer permitted near at any of my homes.”

“Yes, my lady,” another guard beside her responded, picking up the man’s clothes. Laches retreated back into the home and the guard signaled the others. They bound the man’s hands before hauling him away. As they walked past, Maera had a good look at him. An older, balding man with pale skin, black hair and a curled moustache. He was pot-bellied and reeked of wine. He continued to curse and swear, still slurring his speech so badly that she still could not understand a word. The guard that followed carried with him fine silk robes and a purse, clinking heavily with coins. A merchant, she suspected.

Walking into the house, she was met by the sight of Laches and one of the men who worked for her: Seda, a beautiful, slender, dark-skinned man, dressed in ruffled, blue silks. They were quiet, but Maera suspected he was telling the old woman exactly what happened as she scribbled the events down on parchment.

“...and he just...kept hitting him. I tried to stop him, but he was just too strong. He would just toss me away.”

“I see.”

“I’m sorry, Matron,” Seda cried, wiping his tears, “I thought he was going to-”

“I know, child. It’s not your fault. Your client knew the rules. Thank you for sending Remy over to me as quickly as you could.” Laches placed the quill down. “Is that everything?” she asked. The young man nodded. “Very well.” 

“Maera?” Seda called out, finally seeing her.

Laches turned to see Maera at the door. “Oh dear, sweet child,” she breathed.

“My lady?” Maera asked with a meek tone, “What happened?

Seda cast Laches a nervous look, but the old woman kept her gaze calmly at the girl. “Upstairs, child. Your brother needs you.”

Without a word, Maera rushed down the hall and up the flight of stairs, nearly tripping over her robes. She could hear sniffling and another voice, attempting to soothe the former.

“Hold still, kid. You don’t want this in your eye.” 

Maera entered one of the bedrooms to see Remy and Sirius sitting on the bed. The taller, tan boy with cropped, dark brown hair was applying some ointment on Sirius’ brow, dabbing out blood where he could. 

“What happened?” she gasped when Sirius looked at her, his other eye and cheek were red and swollen. He had been beaten and was crying.

“I was clumsy… spilled some wine on the man,” Sirius replied, through his sniffles.

“I saw what happened, he knocked it out of your hands,” Remy snapped back defensively, “Bloody stupid oaf. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Ow! Remy! Stop! You’re pressing too hard!” Sirius cried out, pushing him away.

Remy gave her a tired look. “Can you?”

“Let me do it,” Maera hurried over, setting her bag on the floor and taking the bottle and cloth out of the older boy’s hands. Taking Remy’s place on the bed, she lightly doused the cloth and began applying it to Sirius’ wounds. “The salve?”

“Right here.” Remy placed the small box on her lap. “I’m gonna go speak with the Matron now. I suspect she’ll want me to give her my side.” Maera gave him with a silent nod and he left.

The two sat in silence as Maera worked. Sirius kept his eyes downcast, staring at his lap.

“Turn your head a little more to the left,” she murmured softly and he shifted, looking away. Opening up the salve, Maera picked up the spoon that accompanied it and portioned a tiny dollop onto a small piece of gauze. She applied the fabric onto the wound on Sirius’ forehead, pressing it firmly so it would stick before repeating the process on his cheek. 

“How do your teeth feel?”

“Alright, I think? I probably won’t know until later.”

“Mhm… Let me or the Matron know if any problems come up. We can only do so much ourselves so we might have to send you to a healer.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Maera tidied up the medical kits, stepping away from the room momentarily to put them away. She returned to find Sirius lying on the bed and curled up to his side. He had his back facing her and he was sniffling again. She walked up to him quietly, grabbing her bag before sitting next to him. “Hey, turn around,” she whispered gently. “The salve is still wet, you need to give it time to dry.” 

Sirius turned to face her, wiping the tears from his face. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s okay. It’s easy to forget sometimes,” Maera reassured him. She reached into her bag. “Um...Dio made these.”

“Huh?” Sirius lifted his head to watch as Maera took out the paper bundle out of her bag, opening up to reveal the cookies. She handed one to him. “Oh… thank you,” he responded meekly, before taking a nibble.

“Thank him the next time you see him.” Maera responded, “He wanted _us_ to share these.”

“Mm.”

Another couple moments of silence passed as Maera watched him eat, munching on one herself. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked softly.

“No,” Sirius murmured back, “I just want to sleep.” Maera sighed, deciding it best not to press any further.

“Okay. I’ll just sit here then?”

“That’s fine.”

Maera stayed with Sirius, only moving to tidy the cookies away once he dozed off. Putting the leftovers back in her bag, she took out the book that she had borrowed from the Matron’s library. It was a thick bundle of yellowed parchment covered back to back with thin aged wood and soft leather, tied together with twine. On the cover, Lache’s initials were etched in, likely by blade rather than quill. 

Unbundling the journal, Maera began to read.

\---

Over a week has passed since the incident at Seda’s home. As Maera worked on another batch of supplies in the lab, Laches was in her study, working on some routine bookkeeping. She was broken out of her focus by a loud knock at her front door. One of the other girls answered, and soon called for her, “My lady? We have guards at the door who wish to speak with you.”

With a sigh, Laches placed down her quill and stepped away from her desk. She checked herself in the mirror, tying up her hair quickly in a neat tail with a velvet ribbon. Grabbing her cane, she exited the room and walked down the hallway to greet the guards in the foyer. 

“How may I help you, gentlemen?”

\---

That evening, Laches joined Maera in bottling up the week’s batches of potions. It was not an unusual thing for the old woman to do. It was, after all, a chance for her to catch up with the girl as she worked.

“So,” Laches began, “we had a visit from the guard today.”

“I heard,” Maera responded lightly, stoppering a filled flask before adding it to its batch. “What did they want?”

“Do you remember that brute who hurt Sirius last week?”

“Yes?”

“Dead. Found in another brothel.”

A pause.

“Shame.” Maera added bluntly. Laches gave the child a questioning look and the girl merely returned the glance with a blank expression before resuming her work.

“The guard suspects poison, though the coroner was unable to find any traces of such things.”

“Perhaps alcohol poisoning?” Maera offered curiously, filling another bottle. “The man was quite the drunk.”

“Apparently, he wasn’t when he entered the brothel. Besides the examiner would have declared it if it was the case.”

“Huh.”

A moment of silence passed between them before the old woman spoke again.

“That was careless of you,” Laches finally spoke, breaking the heavy awkwardness in the room.

“No one saw me,” Maera replied nonchalantly before adding with a sigh, “No one ever sees me.” She stoppered the filled bottle, stored it, and picked up another empty one.

“You are lucky I was able to provide the guards with an alibi for all of us,” the old woman added sternly yet quietly. Maera hadn’t realized she had walked up to stand beside her. “You could’ve been executed if they found out it was you,” she hissed.

“Do you disapprove?” Maera asked softly, her tossing back an innocent look.

“Of the act? No,” Laches admitted, with an amused smirk at the child’s expression before scowling. “It is the quality of your execution that I disagree with.”

“What would you have had me do?” the young girl queried, with a hint of indignation in her tone, “He hurt Sirius and was able to pay his way out of his punishment. Wine was his weakness, so I exploited it.”

“Next time…” Laches placed her hands on Maeras, pausing her from her work. She gave the young girl a hard stare. “The next time you decide to take one of my more _unorthodox_ recipes to deal with a problem, you come to me _first_ .” The old woman’s deep burgundy eyes flash with a rosy, crimson light. “I will make sure you make the _right_ choices, do you understand?”

Maera returned the scolding look with a steel-backed one of her own, nodding. “Yes, Matron,” she responded, her voice even.

“Good girl.” Patting her head, Laches smiled proudly, before stepping away. “I will say this, my child...”

“Yes, my lady?”

“Impressive work, nonetheless.”


	3. Winters

Sirius had to give credit to the Matron. The old witch tried to keep the poor girl out of the family business for quite a long time. 

But Maera was getting older, and their clients were starting to notice Laches’ young assistant a little too much to ignore. At first, the old woman tried charging an exorbitant amount for her…beyond what most if not all could afford. 

When the others asked why she was not being sold, the Matron insisted that the girl was far more valuable to them working on their salves and medical stores. She had a budding talent for alchemy, after all, and gave them the care they needed when the old woman could not. Plus, she was incredibly shy and the Matron could never find the time to properly train her like she did the others.

But then - when she was barely eighteen winters - some high ranking military official wanted to celebrate his teenage son’s promotion among their ranks, and suddenly Laches’ price for Maera’s first appointment was met.

As he helped her with her hair and makeup, Sirius knew she was not ready. He tried to relay to her from Laches that the boy was like her - shy and soft-spoken. If Maera was lucky - Sirius tried to comfort her - the young man would be gentle, and at worst a little clumsy. Perhaps, it wouldn’t be so bad.

But he knew it was pointless. It was  _ always _ pointless. Especially in their line of work.


	4. Torch

_ ‘So…’ _

Her flame sparked to life before her.

_ ‘This is how it ends.’  _

Blood and bile stained her tongue. She felt the gaps within her mouth. Bastards took out a couple of her teeth.

_ ‘My turn is over.’  _ Her head throbbed viciously. Pain - both blunt and sharp - coursed through her body. She felt both hot from the flames nearby and cold from her exposed bloodied skin. Her clothes - once so fine and extravagant - hung from her body in tatters.

_ ‘I did not expect this to come so suddenly. Perhaps I should have.‘ _

The coarse ropes that held her were not exactly comfortable either.

_ ‘The writing has been on the walls for some time.’  _ They had truly done a number on her. But she gave them a good fight, she made sure of it. She made sure the rumors about her were finally confirmed with  _ terrifying _ clarity. The furious yelling and cries of self-righteousness and overzealous indignation from the mob annoyed her. She tuned them out. She knew what they called her. She did not care. She never did.

_ ‘I guess my children have made me soft. She caught me unaware.’  _ As one of the cultists prattled on in his declaration of her countless sins, she looked for them in the crowd. She could see the faces of every single person in the sea of damning fire. She hoped none of her little ones were among them. It would be too dangerous for them. _ ‘I forgot what I was. I believed I was one of them...for a time.’ _

There. In the back. Near the shadows. A pair of sad, verdant green eyes stared back. Maera. Her hands covered her mouth, as though to keep herself silent. _ ‘I like to think I did a lot of good... with the time I had. Don’t you agree?’ _

Sirius, ever the big brother, was standing next to her, looking just as stricken as the young woman. 

_ ‘I learned much.’ _

Both were cloaked in rags, blending in with the crowd. They seem to have disposed of their finer day-to-day wear. Good. Likely Maera’s idea. She was always the smart one _.  _ The kind one, but nonetheless, the  _ smart _ one. __

_ ‘I understand them better now.’ _

Laches turned her gaze away from them, lest she draw attention to them. Instead she turned her focus back on the flame in front of her.

_ ‘But really, sister. Making me go out like this?’ _

The robed figure that held it brought it closer to her feet.

_ ‘You really can be such a bitch.’ _

The kindling burst into flames.

_ ‘Ah well. Time to pass the torch.’ _


	5. Relay

The wooden fetish on the shelf burst to flames.

_ ‘...’  _ Bright yellow eyes turned their gaze up from the cauldron.

She watched intensely as the effigy burned.  _ ‘Hmph.’ _

The velvet ribbon was incinerated.  _ ‘She’s done. Time to see what she left me.’ _

The fire hissed and snapped as the wood cracked and splintered. Its burning fragments fell, scattering onto the cold stone floor of her refuge.  _ ‘I see. You caught her off guard.’ ’ _

Aisa stood up and lumbered over. She glared as the pieces burned, some more brilliantly than others. Some turned quickly to ash. Some into cinders. Others simply smoldered. _ ‘At least she led a good life...in her own way, I suppose.’ _

Two tiny chips splintered off at her feet. One had caught alight. The other smoked, but was otherwise untouched by the fire.

_ ‘Hmm. Only two.’ _

The fetish crumbled off the shelf. Its ashes trickled to the ground. 

_ ‘Two, then one. Very well.’ _

The burning chip dissolved.

_ ‘I’ll keep an eye out.’ _


	6. Play

The old woman looked up at the clear night sky. The moon hung over her, waning.

_ ‘It has been quite some time.‘ _ Aisa closed her eyes, and her mind searched through her memories, trying to recall how long it took for her to cross the sea so many years ago. _ ‘Perhaps I should check up on the children.’  _ She opened her eyes and turned away from the stars, entering her home hidden deep in the Frostcliff Mountains. She unclasped her cloak of furs and tossed it onto the pile of hides that served as her bed. Grabbing a couple reagents from her stores, she sat by the simmering cauldron at the center of her abode. She tossed the ingredients inside and snapped her fingers, adding more strength to the flame underneath. 

_ ‘Tell me, sister....’  _ She picked up the ashes she had collected from the other night in a bowl, tossing them into the mixture. ‘ _ Where are they now?’  _ she wondered, adding the two chips that had fallen closest to her. The fumes from the mixture filed the room. She breathed in deeply and her vision turned white. She could hear the sea. She could hear the creaking of wood. They were travelling by boat. __

_ ‘Oh. They’ll be here soon.' _

She found her, the piece that did not burn. 

_ ‘ _ **_She_ ** _ is dreaming again.’ _

Her vision cleared, and she stood next to her, as she did many nights before. The child could not see her, not unless she let her. 

_ ‘The dead still haunt her.’ _

Once again, she followed the girl as she followed her usual course. Her dreams always started out beautiful, but ended in such horror. Worst of all...

_ ‘ _ **_They_ ** _ know this all too well.’ _

Aisa would watch as the child relived the echoes of her most formative memories. Memories of her childhood...

_ ‘Poor creature.’ _

… learning more about the girl, as much as she could while she could...

_ ‘Full of pain.’ _

Memories of her family.

_ ‘Despair.’ _

Her mother.

_ ‘Fear.’ _

Her father.

_ ‘Rage.’ _

The child was definitely troubled.

_ ‘Not that I can blame her.’ _

Her task will not be easy. That much was clear. But nonetheless, it must be done.

_ ‘You were cruel to her...given the hand you dealt her.’ _

As usual, the young woman woke up screaming as flames filled her nightmares, outdone only by the savagery of her father’s memory. It was a recurring thing. A disturbing thing.

With her mind returning to the waking world, as did her vision. She shifted out of the girl’s mind and watched, observing her and her friend, a nervous little mongrel. They had been hiding in the cargo hold of the ship. As she listened to their conversation, she learned that they had snuck on. It was only a matter of time now.

_ ‘There it is’ _

They were discovered. They fought and won. Or lose?

_ ‘Hmm. This is quite the turn of events.’ _

_ She _ appeared. 

_ ‘Well…’ _

_ She _ spoke with them  _ directly _ , being as cryptic as ever.  _ Typical. _

_ ‘What is your play here?’ _

_ She _ knocked both out cold.

_ ‘Well, guess I just have to wait again.’ _


	7. Lost

_ ‘Ah! There she is.’ _

The girl stood among a sea of memories.  _ ‘Where am I? What is this place?’ _

She watched as the girl examined each shrine, each unique from the next.  _ ‘Hmm. What will she choose?’  _ Aisa wondered.

The girl’s hand hovered over the three upright stones, lit with blue cascading light.  _ ‘This...this feels familiar.’ _

_ ‘Hmm. Alright.’ _

_ \--- _

_ ‘She’s getting strong rather quickly.’  _

The girl had returned. _ ‘That was strange, I thought I could hear something back there.’ _

_ 'Oh? What is this?’  _ So. she heard the whisper as well. Aisa knew what that meant, but did  _ she _ ?

“Hello? Who is there? Can you hear me?” The girl strayed from blue lit stones, and found herself by the one glowing with dark violet. The whisper echoed from it.

_ ‘...’ _

_ ‘Hold on. Let me just reach out a little further.’  _ The girl raised her hand. Her fingers grazed the stone.

In an instant she was flung back into the shallow river. Aisa’s vision shifted as it followed the girl.

“I… I can see you!” The girl looked up and saw it. A light shining brightly by the shore.  _ A soul. _

_ ‘How...unexpected.’ _

It called to her.. “You’re lost,” she murmured, wading forward towards it. “You’ve been lost for a long time… a very long time.”

_ ‘Interesting.’ _

The girl reached out, her palms opened. “Come with me,” she whispered, as though in a trance.

_ ‘Interesting, indeed.’ _

_ ‘Maybe I can help you.’  _ The soul went to her and rested in her hands. It disappeared as she closed them.

_ ‘Enough.’  _ Aisa closed the vision. __

_ ‘Time for a closer look.’  _


	8. Found

“Well, that’s not good.”

Jespar watched from afar as the bandits rummaged through the camp. Nearby, the two apothecarii lay dead, their bodies still burning from the explosion that had left everything else scattered around the riverside. There was still something missing that he could not see. Well...someone.

_ ‘The woman ...where is she? I didn’t see any of them take her.’  _

\---

_ ‘Come on. Move along.’  _

The sun was setting and the valley was getting dark. Jespar began to worry whether or not he would be able to find her once it was safe. The occasional thought occurred to him that perhaps he should not bother to check and simply forget about her. Maybe she was killed, either by the explosion or one of the bandits had dealt with her and he just happened to miss it.

_ ‘This is a waste of time,’ a  _ part of him urged, ‘ _ I should leave. I still have a job to do.’ _

_ ‘No. You should at least try to find her,’  _ another insisted,  _ ‘She might need your help.’ _

Something deep down told him to listen to the latter. The former cursed when he made up his mind.

Jespar decided to wait a little longer; at least, until most of them had left. Within a quarter of an hour the bandits finally began to clear the area, seeming to have taken any and every thing of value they could carry. Ensuring he remained hidden among the trees and brush, he moved closer as quietly as he could, in case of any nearby stragglers. He hoped he had not missed his window of remaining daylight before finding the young woman. 

_ ‘Now, where did she go?’  _ He searched the bushes. 

The valley was getting dark. He was running out of time.

_ ‘There!’ _

A petite young woman lay nearby, dressed in tattered robes that were clearly far too large for her. Kneeling by her side, Jespar examined her as quickly and as carefully as he could. He moved her hair out of her face. The woman was alive, but unconscious. Her breath was slow and weak.

_ ‘Wow... she’s- no. Focus.’ _

She had sustained some injuries. Mostly bumps, open scrapes, and bruises but nothing seemed broken. Her forehead felt warm to the touch, and he remembered overhearing her conversation with the apothecarius. Alright, at least one major concern perhaps. But apart from that, there was nothing severe that he could find through a cursory inspection. 

Double-checking to make sure there were no longer any bandits around, Jespar gently picked her up, cradling her in his arms, and carried her back the way he came.

\---

_ ‘Well, that should do it.’ _

Night had fallen when he returned to his camp. He had set the woman down carefully on ground, and after starting a fire, began to treat her injuries in its flickering light. It did not take him too long - perhaps the lesser part of a half hour. Once he finished dressing a wound on her arm, he decided to look her over one last time.

_ ‘That looks alright. Nothing here. This is fine.’  _

Jespar turned her to her side and padded her back again, slowly taking his time this round just in case there was something he might have missed. He wanted to make sure she had not fallen on something sharp or was bleeding and he had overlooked it by mistake. Fortunately, to his relief, he did not find anything of the sort.

However, instead of a smooth back like he expected, Jespar did feel something through the worn fabric of her ill-fitted robes. A lot of things, in fact.

‘ _ Are those...scars…?’ _

Laying her flat on her back, Jespar gave her a sad look. 

_ ‘What happened to you...?’ _

Something inside him stopped him.

_ ‘Best to not think about it.’ _

Lifting her wrist, he checked her pulse - slow but steady. As one more check, Jespar placed his hand on her forehead. ”Hmm,” he mused out loud, “Still burning up... poor thing.”

He edged away from her and settled down by the campfire. _ ‘Guess I just have to wait until she wakes up.' _

\---

Eventually, night passed and the sun rose.

Jespar woke up to the sound of soft groaning and mewling beside him. The woman.

“Now would you look at that,” he spoke in a friendly tone, “Our mysterious survivor has awoken.”

“What...where am I?” she sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She turned her head to face him, eyes blinking. “Who are you?”

Jespar gave her a courteous bow. “Jespar Mitumial Dal’Varek. Jespar for short, and you, my friend, are at my very own campsite.” Feeling her gaze upon him, he stood up straight and gave her a look back. A  _ real _ look at her.

The morning sun granted him a clear view.

Dark tanned skin. Long, soft ash-brown hair…

Jespar swallowed.

...and a pair of the most beautiful, verdant green eyes he had ever seen.

_ ‘Oh!’ _

The woman simply stared back at him, struck.

_ ‘Oh!’ _


	9. Sister

High from the treetops, she watched them through his eyes. 

_ ‘I can glide down and perch a little closer, if you’d like,’  _ he offered,  _ ‘I can barely hear what they’re saying, so I imagine it’s the same for you.’ _

_ ‘No need,’  _ Aisa responded to the raven, who she had sent to watch for the girl.  _ ‘I knew this was going to happen. The boy is harmless. He won’t hurt her.’ _

“So, he has found her.” A voice spoke up from behind her, from the bottom of the snow-covered hill.

_ ‘That’ll be all for now, Gin.’ _

_ ‘Yes, my lady.’ _

Aisa broke the connection and her vision returned to the sea before her. Staying seated upon the hilltop, she covered her right eye with its patch. “I was wondering if and when you were planning to visit,” she began. She glanced over at the woman. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.”

The woman did not respond, she simply gazed at her, her expression blank.

“Well?” Aisa stood up and stared back at her. “Are you going to tell me why you did it?”

“Whatever do you mean?” 

_ ‘That smug little…’ _

“Laches,” the old witch grumbled.

“...”

“Well?”

“She had forgotten her place. Her task. Her role...” the woman gave her a cold gaze, “She needed a reminder.”

“Did you need to  _ burn her to death _ to remind her?” Aisa snapped back, slamming her walking stick into the icy rock beneath her. The force of it billowed the powder furiously around her. “She was doing just fine until you started  _ meddling _ ! What in all hells did you do in Nehrim for her to deserve such a fate?”

The woman ignored her. “Laches needed the push. She was taking too long.”

“Since when has time ever mattered to us?” Aisa huffed.

“Since  _ you _ started meddling,” the woman reminded her swiftly, her face showing just the barest hint of annoyance. “Both you  _ and  _ Laches.”

“...” Aisa scowled at her. “Laches didn’t have to die like that,” she muttered, grasping her staff with both hands.

“Laches is not dead,” the woman replied. She expressed the faintest smile. “Well...not  _ entirely _ .”

“...” The anger on Aisa’s face turned to confused disbelief. “How…? I watched her burn.”

“Did you see her burn yourself? Have you seen her body? Confirmed her death? Buried her remains yourself?” the woman queried rapidly, rhetorically. “Only your little doll of her burned, and you only  _ assumed _ her fate.”

“...”

“Do you remember the last time you _ assumed _ one of  _ your _ creations would work as intended?”

Aisa glowered furiously at her. “Every single day,” she growled through clenched teeth.

The woman walked up the hill to stand before her. “Remember why you are here, Aisa,” the woman spoke softly, starting out into the sea. “You have a task.”

“More like a sentence,” the old woman scoffed, sharing the woman’s gaze of the open water. 

“You know what you did was wrong. Both you and Laches,” she reminded her plainly, “The girl...”

“...is the key, I remember.” Aisa cast her a sideway glance, “I just wish you’d tell me the key to  _ what _ ?”

“Clarity.”

“I mean more specifically.”

“I cannot get any more specific than that.”

_ Typical. _

“You know,” Aisa let out a huff, “Sometimes you can be such an annoying bi-”

“Laches was close to understanding,” the woman interrupted her. “Not close enough, but closer than you. Her time with others helped her see... almost.”

“Whatever.” Aisa turned away. “I’m tired of your riddles. I’m going to take my leave now,” she added, beginning her trudging descent through the snow and down the hill. She paused momentarily, casting the woman one last glance, “after all, as you said, I have a task to do.”

The woman faded away, her voice parting, “Farewell.” 

_ ‘Hmph.’ _


	10. Care

“You’re hurt...” Maera murmured softly, her eyes focused on his wrist. He had it wrapped with a strip of linen, now stained on the outside with a spot of blood.

“Oh this?” Jespar looked down at his wound. “I was just careless on the way in and got nicked by one of Yero’s traps,” he explained, “Didn’t expect him to booby trap his own basement. It’s no big deal.”

“It seems you don’t have any ointment on it,” she noted out loud. He watched as worry crossed the young woman’s brow. “It may seem minor now, but if not treated soon it could get infected…” Maera bit her lip. “May I…” she began, raising a hand. She glanced at her palm curiously before returning her attention to him. “May I try something?”

“Oh...Sure.” Jespar responded without thinking. distracted by her lip biting.

Taking his hand into hers, Maera placed another hand on his bandaged wrist. From her palm, a pale yellow light began to form. It was warm and soothing. “How does that feel?” 

“Good...better, actually,” he replied. The subtle stinging pain had been relieved and faded away. Jespar suddenly remembered. “Hang on, your fever...”

“I just want to see if I could- ow!” Maera winced and clutched her head with the hand that was healing him. The golden light had faded.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I…” she blinked, rubbing her temple with her fingers to ease the dull, throbbing pain. “I’m fine.”

“I thought you were new to magic,” Jespar wondered out loud.

“I was…” Maera muttered, “...am...I’ve just picked it up lately.”

“People don’t normally _‘just pick it up’_.”

“I know. It’s just...Nevermind…” she glanced at his arm. “How is it now?”

Jespar carefully removed the dressing. To his surprise, she had healed his wound completely. “Wow,” he breathed, bending and rotating his wrist to ensure its mobility, “Thank you… but you...”

“You wanted to show me something?” Maera brought up quickly.

Jespar decided not to press further. “Sure, come with me.”


	11. History

“Here, put this on, and before you ask: yes, it’s necessary. Just trust me.” Jespar tossed her the bound paper package.

With outstretched hands, Maera caught it. As she held it carefully in her arms, she undid the twine that kept it bundled and opened the folds, peeking inside. She could see a dress...Kiléan, based on the colors. It was a lovely gift, but where was he expecting her to change? Certainly not in the middle of the market? She looked up at him questioningly.

"What's wrong?” he asked, returning the confused look. “Is the size alright? I was certain-"

"Oh, it’s not that. It’s very lovely, and I think you got my size right,” she responded quickly. “It's just…"

"Huh?"

“Where should I…?” she looked around, her gaze alone signalling where they stood.

“Oh!” He understood instantly. “Right!” he exclaimed, flashing an embarrassed smile. “ Sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Maera sighed with a laugh.

“Come with me.” Jespar led them across the market, past the stalls and vendors to one of the buildings. Together, they entered a small tailoring shop, which rested at the end and up a flight of steps. Inside he spoke with the owner, who had expressed verbal surprise upon Jespar’s quick return. As Maera looked around, she listened as Jespar explained his mistake. The owner simply laughed in amusement and pointed her towards the doors leading to his personal quarters where she could change. 

"Thank you, My… Mysir” Maera offered as she walked past, closing the doors behind her.

“Of course,” Elumund responded kindly, his peculiar accent fluttering his words. He turned his attention back to Jespar. “Is there anything else I can assist you two with?” he queried. 

“I think we should be good, thank you,” Jespar replied with a gracious smile, “I’ll just wait for her in the meantime.”

“Very well, mysir. Please call me if you need anything.”

Jespar took a seat nearby and waited. He gazed up at the ceiling and took a deep breath, listening for Maera as she moved around in the other room. It occurred to him suddenly that he could hear her rather clearly...

...as if she was right next to him.

Jespar looked at the wall that divided them and could see her plainly. The walls, he realized, were worn down. So much that there were gaps between the wooden panels with some having pieces broken off completely. He was surprised he did not notice until now. But what he saw on the walls could not compare to what he saw beyond it. 

Maera was completely undressed, facing away from him. On her dark, tanned and otherwise smooth skin, the full extent of the scars on her back were exposed to him. 

Jespar had only  _ felt _ them before, back when he first found her. He was barely able to see anything in firelight that night when he was checking her for any remaining injuries. But now, under bright light and with a crystal clear view...

At least a dozen scars, Jespar counted, marred her back - some large, some small, and most overlapping. A fair amount were shallow and clearly inflicted by lacerations or burns. Sometimes both, from what he can guess. Her skin had been slashed, cut, and stabbed, but he could not tell from what. They definitely were not from a blade - they were too wide and crude.

Whatever caused them, Jespar knew it was painful…  _ very _ painful.

A muffled cough snapped him out of his thoughts. Looking away from Maera, Jespar’s gaze met the owner’s. The older man gave him a scolding look mixed with both an amusement grin and a head shake of disapproval. Jespar responded with a sheepish grin and a shrug, crossing his arms in embarrassment and decided then to focus instead on the floor in front of him. 

As he continued to wait for her, his mind returned to her scars - the memory of each one had already burned themselves into his mind. They were so brutal...so barbaric a sight upon someone so...so...

_ ‘Who hurt you so, fair lady?’ _


	12. Flirt

“You know...this is exactly the reason why I love inns so much.” 

Maera followed Jespar’s glance as he nodded, directing her attention to the crowd behind him. Most of the inn’s patrons were now dancing with one another as the bards loudly performed some instrumental jig. Others were having increasingly lively conversations over hot meals and cold brews. A fair number were gambling at the other tables lining the walls. A group on the other end of the dining area started a drinking contest of sorts. All in merriment.

“The sky can rain fire out there, in here you’ll always meet laughter and good humour,” Jespar looked back at her with flirtatious eyes and that charming smirk of his. ”Not to mention all the good-looking men and women.”

As she felt his piercing blue gaze upon her, Maera felt her insides tense and her body grow warmer. That was starting to happen a lot lately around him, much to her personal embarrassment. Whether he noticed or not, Maera was thankful Jespar has yet to comment on it. Leaning back, she tried to calm herself, hoping she did not give herself away. She bit her lower lip in a feeble attempt to hide how excited he was making her feel.  _ That _ he noticed, as he let out an amused yet subtle chuckle in reaction, biting his own bottom lip.

_ ‘I see that,’  _ he spoke with merely a look.

That goddamn smile of his was going to be the death of her.

“A richly set table...” Casting back an amused, sultry look of her own, Maera lifted her goblet in a causal toast. “Indeed,” she purred, before taking a sip of the wine. 

Jespar returned the gesture with a toast of his own drink. “Absolutely.”

\---

“I very much enjoyed our talk, but the ship to Kilé leaves before the first cock’s crow tomorrow, and I want some more time to think about it.”

Maera felt her heart sink, but she did not show it.  _ That _ came easy to her - hiding not-so-happy feelings was something she was most accustomed to. Casting an air of light-heartedness, Maera gave him a smile. “For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t mind if you stayed,” she murmured nonchalantly yet honestly, tracing one of her fingers along the mouth of her cup, “This city needs more good-looking mercenaries.”

As he got up from his seat, Jespar did not appear to have noticed her disappointment. “Well,” he started, “it most recently gained a good-looking Nehrimese woman.” He reached into his pockets and placed more than enough coins on the table for his - no... _ both _ \- their meals. “Maybe,” he continued, taking one last look at her, “that will make up for when I leave.” 

Maera noticed him pause - only for a brief moment. His eyes staring straight at hers.

A moment later, Jespar broke his gaze.

“Keep your chin up,” he bid, and began to walk away.

“Thank you, Mysir Dal'Varek," Maera returned as he strode past.

She allowed herself a sad smile.

“Farewell.”


	13. Tired

_ ‘’Prophetess’... that’s what he called me.’ _

It was the middle of the night. Maera could not sleep. 

Soon after Jespar had retired for the night, she had gotten herself one of the other rooms in the Dancing Nomad. She had been trying to sleep for hours, but her earlier conversation with Aranthael kept her awake. Maera looked at the little spirit resting above her palm. It was listening to her, curious.

_ ‘The Grandmaster explained it to me. I understand what he was saying.’  _ she watched as the tiny light floated and rolled slowly around in her hands, as though pondering. ’ _ I just can’t believe it.’  _

It has been quite some time since Maera found her ethereal friend. It had been whispering to her since she found it, trying to get her attention like a little bird that was cooped up in its cage for too long. It took her hours over days of quiet meditation to figure out how to communicate back, and only barely managed  _ something _ . It never spoke to her. Well, at least, not in a conventional sense. It would respond to her by making her feel things - emotions, instincts,  _ gut feelings _ \- that she was somehow able to distinguish as not her own. It was its only form of communication - at least so far - and to Maera it was quite the odd experience. 

The spirit seems to have become part of her, but not completely. It was as though it lived in its own little room in her mind and only she held the key. From what she gathered, it could not always see what she saw, feel what she felt, or read her mind or peek into her memories - not without her call or permission. But it would listen to her when her thoughts would reach out to it, or bug her in the back of her mind whenever it was bored or restless.

It would also appear from her hands when she allowed it to step out of wherever it was residing in her head, like a puppy being released from its pen. In those instances - like the one now - it would leisurely hover around in her palms, listening to her for a little mental chat.

The strangest part? No one ever seemed to notice or comment on it. Maera suspected not everyone was capable of seeing spirits, or perhaps they assumed it with some harmless spell. She vaguely remembers reading something in her childhood about Mentalists being able to cast light. But this was no light. It was a spirit. Something  _ alive _ . Like a tiny breath or heartbeat in her hands.

Maera could not believe she was now capable of wielding such an ability.

That and so many others. 

_ ‘What I could’ve done if I had this power back in Ostian…’ _

Specifically,  _ magic _ .

‘ _ My life...would it have been the way it was?’ _

Maera’s heart sank as she suddenly remembered those she had lost. 

_ ‘Sirius would probably be still alive. Laches too. Who knows what happened to everyone else?’ _

In her palm, the spirit responded with sadness, followed by empathy, as though it was able to feel her grief. She looked down, sighing.

_ ‘Now here I am... Alone in a completely different and strange country, surrounded by strangers...’ _

Maera grimaced. Her chest tightened with anxiety. The spirit seemingly understood, as memories of her life flashed vividly in her mind. It continued to listen.

_ ‘...with omens of imminent doom being tossed on my shoulders by some old man with what feels like too much power.’ _

Same story. Same song and dance. Only with much higher stakes.

_ ‘Or so he says.’ _ Maera reminded herself resentfully.  _ ‘And he expects me to give him my answer soon.’ _

That old, presumptuous,  _ arrogant _ …

Maera groaned. She has had to deal with men like him her whole life. She was utterly sick and tired of them, even more so of  _ serving _ them. Leaning back against the wall, she stared up at the ceiling. Deep down, she knew she was not  _ truly _ being given a choice, and she  **_hated_ ** it.

Every part of her - her body, mind, heart, instincts - screamed at her from the inside.

_ ‘I don’t want to deal with this. I can’t.’ _


	14. Eyes

_ 'I should go back.' _

_ 'No. Leave.' _

_ 'Stay.’ _

Jespar stood near the bottom of the ramp, hesitating. He observed the ship to Kilé as the crew and passengers were boarding. He had to make up his mind.

_ ‘What is left for you here?’ _

_ ‘What is left for you out there?’  _

He turned to look back at the city, the thought of leaving suddenly felt heavy on his shoulders. It made him feel tired. His chest ached as his memory suddenly returned to  _ her _

Maera.

_ 'Those eyes…' _

_ ‘Don’t be stupid.’ _

_ ‘You saw how she looked at you.’ _

_ ‘It’s just an infatuation.’ _

_ ‘Is it really?’ _

_ ‘I’m too old for this.’ _

_ ‘Am not.’ _

_ ‘You cannot possibly be considering…’ _

_ ‘All you do is run away.’ _

Jespar swore under his breath.

From the ship, the captain called to him. “Hey, you coming or what?”

Jespar looked up at the older man, then back towards Ark. Towards  _ her. _

“I changed my mind. I’m going to stay.”

_ ‘This is a bad idea.’ _


	15. Ally

“Maera?”

Maera jumped as the voice behind her broke her out of her train of thought. She turned away from the market’s bulletin board and came face to face with a pair of almond shaped eyes.

“There you are! I was beginning to think you skipped town,” Lishari sighed with relief. “Aranthael has been asking for you, you know? He’s been sending people out to look for you for over two weeks now.”

“I was away.” Maera crossed her arms and stared at the ground. “I’ve been…” she hesitated. ”I’ve been doing some jobs here and there...went back to Riverville to help out its residents,” she explained. Maera nodded her head towards the board. “I just came back to Ark this morning to see what jobs are available here. Riverville is mostly out of work for me now, but I’m  _ so close _ to being able to purchase the place I was looking at in the city. I need a place to stay, after all. I don’t want to keep staying at inns or outdoors if I can help it.”

“Oh? Which one?”

“The place in the Noble Quarter, across from the Bathhouse.”

Lishari balked at her. “You’ve already earned enough to buy that place?!”

“No, almost. Just need a few hundred more.”

_ ‘Wow...Emissaries are crazy…’  _ Lishari thought to herself. She then blinked, remembering why she was there. “Maera, you do know that if you work with us, you could have - at the very least - room and board covered, right?” Lishari pointed out. “They would also pay you to work with them.”

“But I would have to join the Order first,” Maera replied, rubbing her arms in discomfort, “I just...don’t like the idea…”

“...of joining a religious military group?” Lishari looked up at the sky, pondering, “Yeah, I understand that. From what I’ve observed, their members can be... how should I say it? A little too much...even for my liking, I’ll admit.”

“Mhm...plus…”

“Hm?” Lishari looked back at her curiously.

“I just…” Maera paused, wondering how much to tell the Nehrimese mage. “Coming to Enderal...I just...want a fresh start and have my own space...” she explained, “I want to live my own life.”

"You..." Lishari took a moment to think. "You didn't like what old Aranthael told you, huh?” she wondered out loud, “The whole doom-and-gloom-endtimes Cleansing business? The idea of being some chosen one or the  _ ' _ Prophetess', as he likes to call you?" she added, her fingers raised in quotations.

Maera groaned and visibly cringed at her words, wearily covering her face with her gloved hands.

"I figured as much," Lishari sighed with an empathetic smile.

“I doubt he even remembers my name…” 

“Well, I can’t say I’ve heard him mention it yet,” Lishari murmured. She looked up in thought. “To be honest, I can sort of understand how you feel,” she began. “We’re both beautiful, talented young women, and we have our whole lives ahead of us,” she thought out loud, “I don’t know what your life was like before coming here, but personally, if it wasn’t for the whole world-ending factor of this Cycle, I too would probably resent having to put my life on hold in order to follow someone like Arantheal.”

Maera brought her hands down to her mouth. Her eyes met Lishari’s.

“But I will say this,” the latter continued, “You may not agree with how he or the Order operates, but we - and by we, I mean the Order  _ and _ us Mages - are trying to stop some serious shit from happening. Regardless of how you feel about them, you’ll have to admit that you cannot ignore this Cleansing business forever. It’s going to affect everyone one way the other, including you.” Lishari placed a hand on Maera’s shoulders. “And again, like it or not, we  _ need _ your help,” she reminded her.

Maera turned away from Lishari to look at the job board. There was still plenty of work for her to do - both within and outside Ark, but despite how close she was to getting that place, there were other finances she had to consider. For one, she could not keep residing at inns as a long-term solution, especially if she wanted to purchase furnishings and supplies once she acquired the place. On top of day-to-day supplies like food, potions, and upgrades to her armor - nevermind a weapon - there was also the idea that she has yet to figure out the recipe for Ambrosia, which she unfortunately now depends on to relieve her Arcanist Fever. It was incredibly pricey and easily the biggest drain on her purse. She hated to admit it, but Lishari was right. She needs the Order and its resources.

Maera sighed heavily, exasperated.

“I don’t like this.”

“I know.”

“I don’t like him.”   
  
“I don’t blame you.”

“Yet you still think I should join him?”

“Join  _ us _ ,” Lishari exclaimed. “You won’t be working with just him and the Order, remember? I’ll be there too - with Constantine and the other Nehrimese Mages.”

“Lishari, I still have to join the Order,” Maera repeated, her discomfort flashing across her face. “I won’t go into details...but I’m not exactly the ideal candidate to join a religious group…”

“At this point, I don’t think Aranthael will care where you came from,” Lishari explained, “especially given the fact that you’ve been developing your magical abilities a ridiculously fast rate. Pretty much anyone who is magically gifted is needed by the Order right now. Plus, you know, the fact that you  _ are _ the Prophetess and everything...”

“I see.”

“Listen, Maera...” Lishari walked up to stand beside her, throwing an arm over Maera’s shoulders. “If it’ll make you feel more comfortable, I’d be more than happy to help you get adjusted to staying at the Temple. The members of the Order haven’t exactly warmed up to us Mages yet, so suffice to say, I still feel like an outsider around them…”

“Lishari, that...doesn’t sound hopeful at…”

“Well, just between us, I can at least help you develop your magical abilities, if you want of course.”

“Well…” Better her than the others, Maera admitted to herself.

“And if Aranthael or the Order gives either of us shit, we can grab a drink together in the Fat Leoran to bitch and moan about it.”

Maera’s eyes met Lishari’s.

“Alright, fine. You win.”

“Great. Let’s get you back to the Temple.”

_ ‘I still don’t like this…’ _


	16. Cage

_ ‘My lady…’ _

Aisa listened.

_ ‘The girl… she has collapsed.’ _

_ ‘Where?’ _

_ ‘The Whisperwood. She was accompanied by three others. Two younglings, and a man in armor. She drank something at an altar.’ _

_ ‘The Order.’ _ Aisa immediately concluded.  _ ‘So… she finally decided to join them.’ _

_ ‘What will you have me do, my lady?’ _

_ ‘Keep watch over her, Nin. Notify me immediately if they attempt to harm her.’ _

_ ‘Yes, my lady.’ _

Aisa looked around her. She was patrolling in the Dark Valley, gathering reagents to replenish her stores. She did not expect the child to get herself into trouble, but it was best to check in with her.

She needed a window.

_ ‘That pond will do.’ _

As she approached the tiny pool of muddy water, Aisa took a glance at what she had in her satchel. Given she was on a supply run, she had left both the ashes along with the feathers of the twins back home. She mumbled an annoyed curse - she could not even use Nin as a proxy.

_ ‘Time to do it the old fashioned way.’ _

Sitting on a rock by the pond, Aisa set her staff down and took out the small mortar and pestle she would bring on her travels. She placed it on her lap, filling it with a handful of bone dust. At her side, she partially unsheathed her blade, and ran her other palm across its edge to draw out blood. She held her wounded hand over the bowl, and let a small dollop spill upon the dust before taking her hand away. With a mere glance, the wound closed and healed completely. She then ground the blood and dust together, mixing them together until they formed a dry paste. 

Aisa picked up her staff again, dipped the bottom end into the water. With a tap, it quickly began to steam and bubble. She tossed the mixture in.

_ ‘Nephew. I offer you my blood as payment. Please, guide me to the dreams of the girl I seek.’ _

As the mixture dissipated into the boiling water, the steam began to billow around her and turn into a thick mist. Once it cleared, she found herself in a stone labyrinth - a prison - standing next to the girl. The child was completely deprived of her belongings, save for some torn clothing.

And she was not alone.

_ ‘An illusion.’ _

The girl was accompanied by a young, malnourished boy in rags. He was lamenting at her, spewing words of fear and doubt. He spoke of hopelessness and how she had been lured into a trap. Aisa watched the girl’s face as he spoke. Her face was blank, but the old witch could see it in her eyes. 

Anxiety. 

Anger.

_ ‘She did not expect the Order to put her through this sort of trial.’ _

Aisa looked back at the young man.

_ ‘ _ **_They_ ** _ know exactly what to say to her.’ _

The young man spoke of her death - how she drowned in the sea with her adopted brother. He told her that she was merely dreaming in her absolute final moments, and that her reality was not genuine. The girl argued back, doubting the truth of his claims. Despite the young woman’s defiant words, Aisa felt the spike of terror coming from her spirit. Her blank facade had cracked only briefly with a furrow of her brow.

The girl was terrified and  _ furious _ .

_ ‘Ignore his words, child. Calm yourself. Find the door.’ _

As though hearing her, Aisa watched as the girl walked past and began to examine the cell, ignoring the illusion’s laments.

_ ‘Who is this?’ _ A cacophony of inhuman voices entered her mind.

Aisa blocked them.

_ ‘Over there,’  _ she guided, and the girl approached the crack in the wall. As her fingers brushed the dormant skeleton that rested at the opening, the wall faded in a flash of light, and a gate appeared. The illusion expressed surprise. Regardless of what he said, the girl opened the door and left the room. He followed, as did Aisa.

The old witch observed the girl as she guided them through the labyrinth, taking down each spectral illusion one after the other with her fledgling light magic. Aisa noted that the girl has gotten stronger. She also noticed that the young woman was getting increasingly more agitated the longer she searched for a way out. The boy’s words only served to exacerbate her distress.

_ ‘They are intentionally provoking her, as they did the others before her.’ _

The girl found herself and the boy back in their cell, the gate vanishing behind him.

_ ‘She is my only chance. I cannot let them take her like the others.’ _

Aisa watched as the girl’s frustration and anguish began to crack her steely facade. As the boy continued to goad her, claiming to be a part of her. The witch could sense the young woman’s disgust as her memories resurfaced, igniting the flame.

_ ‘His words remind her of her father.’ _

In her rage, the girl struck the boy square in the face.

Stumbling back, he merely laughed at her, mocking her. 

The dream shifted.

The girl woke up in one of the beds at the Temple in Ark. The companion that had rescued her at the Sun Coast was waiting for her by the fire.

Next to him was one of  _ their _ effigies. A crude, inhuman and monstrous thing.

Standing beside the girl, Aisa listened as they drew out the people in her life, speaking with their tongues. Their imitations frighted the young woman, unsettling her. They continued to mock her, warning her of the inevitability. In her distress, the girl screamed and woke up, her spirit disappearing from the dream.

Now it was just her, and  _ them. _

In the silence, the effigy spoke to Aisa,  _ directly _ . Their cacophony echoed around her.

_ ‘It has been a long time.’ _

_ ‘It has been.’ _ Aisa replied with a sigh.

_ ‘We’ve been growing stronger in number.’ _

_ ‘I know. I expected nothing else.’ _

_ ‘Do you plan on interfering again?’ _

_ ‘Of course. I have a task to complete.’ _

_ ‘You will fail again. As you always do.’ _

_ ‘Will I?’ _

_ ‘The countless souls you’ve failed to protect from us is evidence of that.’ _

_ ‘You assume too much.’ _

The voices grew silent. Aisa could sense a faint trace of confusion.

_ ‘What is the matter? At a loss for words?’ _

In an instant, the room filled with a thick pale mist. Feeling herself depart from the dreamscape, Aisa looked around her as the mist dissipated, and she once again found herself back in the Dark Valley. At her feet, the water had grown still and cold. She grinned and scoffed.

_ ‘Petulant little brats, the lot of them…’ _


	17. Letter

“Um...Mydame?”

Lishari looked up from the book in her lap. She was sitting on a bench in the courtyard when the boy walked up to her. She shifted her magelight aside so she could see him clearly in the evening sun. “Hey, what’s up, kid?”

The little boy took a moment to look at her. He had a letter in his hand. “Oh, my mistake. I’m sorry to disturb you. I think I have the wrong person…”

“Who’s that from?” Lishari queried, nodding at the letter.

“Mysir Dal’Varek, mydame.” 

‘ _ That mercenary Constantine hired...’ _

“And... who is it for?”

“I was told to deliver this to a ‘beautiful woman with bright green eyes’, but...” he answered, and looked at her closely again under her light. “But your eyes aren’t green…”

“Oh!” Suddenly, Lishari’s curiosity was piqued. “I think I know who you’re talking about.” She looked past the boy to scan the courtyard. “Last I checked, she was in the Emporium speaking with Grandmaster Aranthael… Oh!” Maera had just stepped out of the building. “There she is!” Without a word, the boy went to her.

Observing from afar, Lishari quickly noticed the look on Maera’s face. The Prophetess had a blank expression, but her eyes held traces of both anger and frustration.  _ ‘Looks like the trial was rough on her…she looks positively furious with Aranthael right now.’  _ The boy came up to Maera and his sudden appearance before her broke her out of her troubled haze. ‘ _ Well... let’s hope that kid is bringing her good news.’ _

Upon him handing over the letter, Lishari smiled as she observed the Prophetess pay the boy a handful of pennies with a gracious smile. As the boy skipped away, Maera opened the letter and read it. A surprised look crossed her face. 

_ ‘Beautiful woman with bright green eyes, huh…?’ _

The Prophetess  _ visibly blushed _ . Lishari could not help but grin in amusement.

_ ‘Lucky man.’ _

\---

_ ‘He’s still here…’ _

Maera stared at the letter.

Jespar wanted to meet her to congratulate her for passing the trial. 

_ “...in person.” _

_ ‘I thought I was never going to see him again…’ _

All of a sudden, Maera’s frustrations with Arantheal were forgotten. She took her gaze away from the letter for a second, and looked back, reading it again. She could not believe what she held in her hands.

_ ‘What am I supposed to think?’ _

_ ‘Maybe he’s just trying to be polite.’ _

_ ‘Last time you spoke, he was planning to leave the country.’ _

_ ‘But he didn’t.’ _

_ ‘But  _ **_why_ ** _?!’ _

“Secret admirer?”

Maera yelped in surprise as Lishari tapped her on the shoulder, having snuck up from behind. Before she could react, Lishari had plucked the letter out of her fingers and began to read it herself.

“Lishari, give that back!” Maera chased after the mage as she pranced away.

“... _ it would rob me of my sleep to know that I didn’t congratulate you in person…”  _ Lishari read Jespar’s words out loud,  _ “Should your holy duties allow it-  _ hey _!”  _

Maera managed to grab it back, thankfully without wrinkling or tearing it. She immediately tucked the letter into her leather tunic. “Lishari...that was personal,” she murmured weakly in embarrassment, her cheeks completely flushed.

“Oh, lighten up. I was just curious.” Lishari laughed.

“What’s going on?” Calia had joined them.

“Nothing.” Maera piped up, her voice small.

“Our Prophetess got a letter from her  _ lover, _ ” Lishari teased relentlessly.

Maera threw her a withering stare. “Lishari, we’re just friends...” she murmured sadly.

“Constantine mentioned he was planning to leave the country...” Lishari responded back. “I wonder why he decided to stay?” she pondered outloud with a mischievous grin.

“May I see it?” Calia asked Maera with as light-hearted and polite of a tone as possible. Her curiosity was also having the best of her. Lishari giggled.

“No!” Maera crossed her arms, as though to protect Jespar’s letter. “By the Sun, you two are like a bunch of little girls.”

“Well, being surrounded by these old folks day-to-day….relatively speaking, you’re not wrong,” Lishari argued playfully. She looked at Calia. “Unfortunately, Calia, it’s honestly nothing  _ too _ juicy. Dal’Varek simply wanted to congratulate her on becoming one of your lot.”

“Oh…” Calia seemed a little stunned as Lishari spoke to her. Maera noticed her cheeks reddening as well.

_ ‘Looks like I’m not the only one with an infatuation…’ _

“I was only teasing our Prophetess,” Lishari explained. “When I saw her read the letter, the reaction I saw on her face made her feelings for Dal’Varek so  _ damn _ obvious, I wouldn’t be surprised if she ca-”

“Lishari!” Maera did not want to hear the rest of that.

“I see.” Calia’s raised a brow in amusement.

“So…” Lishari turned her sights back to Maera. “Are you going to go see him now?”

Maera huffed. “Of course I am. Like I said, we’re friends.” She turned away and began to head out.

“Tell us what happens after!” 

Without looking back, Maera flipped her off on her way out. Lishari simply laughed.


	18. Brandy

“Ah, there you are.”

Jespar let out a subtle sigh of relief. Part of him was worried that the errand boy he hired would not deliver his letter and ran off with his coin. Another part of him was worried that Maera would receive the letter, but would choose to ignore it. After all, the sad look he noticed from her when he saw her last made him wonder whether he had already ruined their friendship.

Of course, the part of him that was against this meeting entirely was still screaming in his head that this was a bad idea.

Maera looked at him the moment she entered the tower. Her weary eyes seemingly brightened at the sight of him and he felt a gentle tug in his chest. Shaking off the feeling, he greeted her warmly, ”Glad you made it! So, how was it? I heard quite some stories about this ‘trial’ and was never sure what to make of it.”

Leaning her shoulder against the wall, Maera rubbed the back of her neck and looked off to the side. After having a little longer to look at her, it occurred to Jespar that she looked both physically and mentally exhausted. He was beginning to suspect some of the more unpleasant stories about the trial were true. 

_ ‘Yet she still came to see me.’ _

“It was…” Maera paused momentarily, as though pondering what to say, “...different than what I expected.” She blinked, shook her head, and gazed back at him. “How come you’re still here? I thought you were planning to leave on a boat to Kilé.”

Jespar shrugged. “Yeah. I changed my mind,” he said simply. He caught a tiny smile teasing the corner of Maera’s lips, “Come, let’s go upstairs.” he beckoned, offering her his hand. “It will be worth it.”

She took it, and he led her up.

“There we are… wait a second.” Upon reaching the top of the tower, Jespar knelt down by a small crate of goods he had brought up for that evening. He opened it and began to sift through its contents. He took a quick glance at Maera, who in the meantime was standing behind him, taking in the view around them. He spoke up, “So - wine or pipe?”

Maera returned her attention to him. “Oh! Wine sounds good.” 

“Tirmatralean brandy, vintage 8190.” He took out the bottle and a silver goblet, filling the latter with the former. He handed her the drink. “A real treasure… Consider it a congratulatory gift for passing the trial.” He set down the bottle nearby. “I’ll leave this here for you if you want more.”

"Oh. Thank you..." Maera then noticed his lack of drink. “What about you?”

“I’ve got my own indulgence for the evening right here,” he replied, padding his pockets. As he stood to lean by one of the parapets, Jespar took out his pipe from his tunic and a portion of peacewood to fill it. He observed Maera as she rested on the wall adjacent to him. She looked down curiously at her cup. With a gentle motion of her wrist, she swirled its contents and took a whiff. Her brow raised as though intrigued by the notes she picked up, and she took a sip. She closed her eyes and a pleasant look washed over her face.

“Mm...Thank you very much,” she repeated, her eyes sparkling. “It’s lovely.”

“I figured you’d like it.” Jespar chuckled as he lit his pipe. He took a whiff of his own treat. “Nothing better than a good pipe and a nice sight to go along with it,” he remarked scanning the scene around him. Maera’s gaze followed his as he continued. “It’s always sad to see how few people can truly appreciate these things.” 

Maera sighed, “Yeah…agreed.”

Jespar returned his attention back to her. “Anyways, tell me my friend,“ he began. Maera returned the look. “What is it that drives you? I’ve been asking that myself since we met. I mean, it’s not like anyone is forcing you to play errand girl for Aranthael, is there? And with your abilities, you could make a fortune as a mercenary.”

The young woman took a sip of her drink, her eyes focused on the dark, sweet, fragrant liquid as though contemplating his question.

“Not to mention the danger you put yourself in,” Jespar added. “Securing the excavation site, passing the trial… they certainly haven’t been easy on you so far.”

"I just…” Maera paused for a moment. “I needed to start over,” she stated plainly. “After everything that has happened, I wanted...needed to make a fresh start for myself in Enderal.” She took another sip of her drink. “Aranthael and the Order are just offering a more... _ lucrative _ option towards achieving that. Although,” she sighed, weariness clear in her voice, “...you are right. It hasn't been easy, but I’ve managed so far. I do what I have to do, after all."

“I see.” Jespar gently blew out a stream of peaceweed smoke through his nose. “In any case, it’s interesting to see how you’ve gotten from being a magically gifted refugee to the center of all ‘this’.” He crossed his arms and looked up at the night sky. He took another drag of his pipe. “Kind of reminds me of a woman I used to travel with… Lysia,” he thought out loud. “No matter where she went, she always ended up in the eye of the storm.” 

_ ‘Lysia… why am I bringing her up?’ _

“...That was thirteen years ago now. By the Wise Hermit, time really is merciless.”

_ ‘Blazes, I might as well just tell her how old I am. That’d be attractive.’ _

Jespar glanced back at Maera to gauge her reaction. He hoped she did not catch his embarrassing slip of personal thoughts. Instead, the young woman was simply returning his gaze with an innocently inquisitive one of her own. “How did you end up travelling with her?” she asked.

_ ‘Well, I started it. I might as well see this conversation through.’ _

“We got hired for the same job,” Jespar answered. “Usually I work better on my own, but this partnership was... refreshing, in every aspect. It felt good to know someone’s got your back for a change, especially with the kind of work I do.” He looked back up at the sky. “Which is why we decided to stick together after that first job,” he remarked nervously. Jespar kept his eyes upon the stars, somehow afraid to see her reaction. He then quickly added, “And it went great, at least initially.”

Maera kept quiet. Jespar felt compelled to continue.

_ ‘Must you really?’ _

_ ‘Yes.’ _

_ ‘You’re an idiot.’ _

“She was just too…intense, that’s the right word for it.” Jespar sighed, “She wanted everything, and she wanted it at once. The rarest jewels, the most handsome men, the best contracts.” With a nostalgic chuckle, he cast his gaze down on the stone floor beneath them. “If you asked her to steal the Golden Queen’s crown, she would have done it without hesitation, just for the thrill of it.”

“So…” Maera’s voice was quiet...gentle, as though she could feel how - despite his relaxed posture - this conversation was getting quite personal for him. “I... take it you were a couple?” she questioned softly.

“We travelled together, we had sex…” He blurted out. “So yes, according to most people’s definition of it, we were a couple.”

_ ‘That was crude. Was that necessary?’ _

_ ‘Yes. It’s the truth. Shut up.’ _

“How long did you work together?” Maera’s question brought him back to attention.

“That was…let me think,” Jespar looked back on his memories, “About three years, yeah. We went to Arazeal, Qyra, Arktwend, and one time, we even fought a group of Petrified on Melée.” He sighed, “She fought as ardently as she lived. I don’t know how I would have survived that fight without her.”

“Sounds like she wasn’t too different from you,” Maera giggled, wondering out loud.

“Oh yes, she was,” Jespar huffed amusingly at her assumption, ”I love a good adventure and earthly pleasures, but I can cope without them. I could always tell a difficult job from a reckless one, and that has kept me alive…” He took another puff of his pipe and exhaled before continuing, “Lysia pretty much lived by one principle: The more extreme a job, the better.” He thought for a moment. “With that attitude, I guess it was obvious that things would go south eventually…” He did not realize his voice had become sad until the words came out. “...one way or the other.”

A couple moments of silence passed between them before Maera spoke up, her voice quiet and gentle again.

“What happened to her?”

“Well,” Jespar sighed, “she started expecting more from our ‘partnership’, our talks and the occasional sex. As she saw it, you either go ‘all the way’ or you don’t go at all.” Realizing his pipe was finished, Jespar tucked it away. He pushed back from the parapet to stand next to the one next to her. He leaned forward on it and cast his gaze out into the wilderness, unable to meet her eyes as they followed him.

“I wasn’t ready for that.”

Another quiet pause.

“So,” Maera murmured, “...she wanted something serious…”

Jespar dared a glance at her. She was looking down at her drink. Jespar noticed it was almost empty.

“Love.”

_ ‘That word sounds pretty good coming from her, doesn’t it?’ _

_ ‘...’ _

_ ‘Kinda makes you wonder what else sounds good coming from her...’ _

_ ‘Shut up.’ _

“Love as she defined it, yeah.” Jespar remarked, brushing his thoughts away, “Had it been for her we would’ve married after the first night.”

Maera looked back at him, and their eyes met. 

“And what was it that you wanted?” she sighed, curiously and softly.

_ ‘Do you remember Lysia ever asking you that?’ _

_ ‘I… don’t know… I don’t remember...’ _

_ ‘You might as well be honest with her.’ _

_ ‘I...’ _

“...That’s a long story.” Jespar answered, turning his sights back on the horizon. ”Not one that puts me in a favourable light, at least if you’re like most people. Let’s save that for another time.” Jespar heard her take one last swig of her drink before reaching for the bottle. She poured herself another cup.

“So you split up.” she concluded.

“Split up...Yeah. That’s one way to put it.”

_ ‘...far too lightly…’ _

A couple moments of awkward silence passed between them again. Jespar cautioned another sideways glance at her, and she was looking down contemplatively at the brandy. He wondered what was on Maera’s mind. What must she think of him? Was she amused? Unimpressed? Jealous? Jespar started to notice that while Maera was prone to wearing her joy or excitement on her sleeve, indications of all of her other emotions were far more subdued.

It made Jespar wonder how she ended up like that.

“But anyway, enough about me. What about you?” he queried as he settled his gaze on her. ”Has there ever been someone in your life? Or have you always been the lone wolf?”

_ ‘What in blazes are you doing?!’ _

_ ‘Um…’ _

Maera blinked at him. Her eyes twinkled. “Am I sensing a subtext here?” she asked with a chuckle, biting her lips through an amused grin. “Not that I’d mind...” she purred.

_ ‘Yep, I walked into that one.’ _

_ ‘You did it on purpose.’ _

_ ‘...Maybe.’ _

“Oh my, is that how you think of me?” Jespar laughed, trying to recover from his questionable lapse in judgement as smoothly as possible. “Can’t two good-looking adventurers have a nice chat on a beautiful evening without implications?”

_ ‘’Good-looking’? Really?!’ _

“But jokes aside, I think I know what you are trying to say. And as attractive as you are…” Jespar’s mind was scrambling.

_ ‘I just called her attractive…’ _

“....I’m afraid I have to pass.”

_ ‘I’m a dumbass.’ _

_ ‘Way to give her all the mixed-signals, you moron.’ _

The twinkle in Maera’s eyes faded, and she looked away. "Oh...alright." her voice became quiet again and she took another sip of the brandy.

_ ‘You’re confusing the poor girl…’ _

"Maera… I…” Jespar resisted the urge to cover his face in his hands in obvious embarrassment. “Listen… Maybe the entire thing with Lysia was enough for me. Sex is fine, but I guess I’m just not… naive enough for anything else anymore.” He looked up at the stars. “Love, love, love… People have such lofty expectations these days, really. Sometimes I think it would help us all to admit that there isn’t much that separates us from the apes.”

“Sorry, but I don’t get it,” Maera sounded rightfully confused by what he was telling her. “You are attracted to me, but you don’t want to do anything about it?”

_ ‘Yes I do!’ _

_ ‘NO! I don’t!’ _

_ ‘You’re fooling yourself!’ _

_ ‘Shut up!’ _

“I… No. That would just complicate things, believe me.” Jespar glanced at her and she returned the look at the same time. “And I can hardly imagine that a woman like you doesn’t have at least a hundred options to choose from.”

_ ‘Did you have to say that?’ _

_ ‘It’s the truth!’ _

_ ‘Yes, but it’s evidently still not helping.’ _

The moment those words came out of his mouth, Jespar noticed a sad, stricken look cross Maera’s eyes. She looked as though his words brought up something from within her. She quickly hid it by returning her gaze back to her drink.

_ ‘That’s…’ _

_ ‘What was that about?’ _

After an uneasy number of seconds, Maera spoke up, her voice soft but flat. “Maybe they don’t interest me as much as you do.”

“Oh come on, that’s just corny.” Jespar tried to laugh it off, “You don’t even know me.”

_ ‘By the Wise Hermit, read the fucking room.’ _

_ ‘I’ve upset her.’ _

Jespar kept going, regardless of her reaction. “You see, this is exactly what I meant with ‘lofty expectations’,” he blurted out, “We’re here, we get along, and we’re having a good time. Why the need for all this sentimental stuff?” He nudged her shoulder with his elbow. “I like you, let’s just leave it at that, okay?”

Maera did not respond. She simply stared down at her cup.

_ ‘She’s definitely distressed.’ _

_ ‘What did I do?’ _

_ ‘I have no idea…’ _

Jespar tried to change the subject. 

“Why don’t you tell me a little more about this trial?” 

The young woman hid it well, but he could hear her taking in a deep breath. After he heard a barely audible sigh from her lips, Maera looked back at him, her expression blank. 

_ ‘That’s a wall.’ _

_ ‘There is definitely something behind it.’ _

“I heard you passed it together with that quiet girl, Calia.” Jespar shook his musings away. “What is she like? I’ve heard some stories about her.”

“Calia…” Maera sighed and looked up at the sky, as though contemplating her answer in order to move the conversation along. “She’s nice… friendly, actually. I don’t know her all that well, but from the brief couple hours I spent with her, I think she’s alright.” She looked down at her drink and took another sip. “As for whatever stories you’ve heard, I don’t think you should believe them entirely. I suspect they don’t come from an empathetic point-of-view.”

“Oh?” Jespar sighed, grateful that the subject has changed.

“Mhm. Another novice that was with us for the trial - Dunwar.” Maera grimaced as she uttered his name. “He was rather rude to her and called her... a variety of things that were unkind. I suspect a fair amount of the Order share his perspective too.”

“Huh…” Jespar pondered for a moment. “Is there any truth to the rumors though?”

“Well,” Maera hesitated, as though uncertain of what words to use. “I have a feeling she doesn’t deserve the hostility that people direct towards her. In fact...” She took another nip of the brandy. ”...from what I can tell and what she’s told me herself, I think her story is rather sad.”

“I see.”

“Calia’s been very kind to me otherwise... her and Lishari.”

“One of Bushy Beard’s mages?”

“Mhm,” Maera nodded. “Lishari was actually the one who coaxed me into joining the Order. I was...avoiding Aranthael and the Order for a while beforehand.”

“I was wondering what all the worried muttering was about,” Jespar responded. He recalled his visit back to the Temple after refusing the boat to Kilé. “At first, I just heard the usual ‘give her a day or two, she’ll come around’ bit. But after a while… well… Arantheal was starting to look a bit agitated. I was curious if and when he might actually snap at someone sooner or later.”

“I bet.”

“You were apparently missing for a couple weeks?” Jespar turned to lean his back against the parapet, restfully crossing his arms.

“Yeah…” Maera sighed, “I trudged back to the Sun Coast and stayed at Riverville for a little bit for some work. I mostly helped out the locals with their issues, did some reagent gathering, alchemy work, bounty hunting and so on.” She swirled the goblet gently in her hand before taking another gulp. “I didn’t want to deal with the Order or the Grandmaster… not after that first little conversation I had with him. I only came back to Ark because I did all I could out there.”

“How bad was that conversation?” Jespar raised a curious brow at her. “Was it really enough to refuse work from the Order? They do pay very well and I imagine it could easily help you get your life started here on Enderal.”

“It’s…” Maera looked at him, questioningly, “While I was gone, did any of those up at the Temple ever tell you what I was? My whole role in this...whatever you want to call it?”

“The Cycle and the Cleansing? Firespark mentioned it to me in passing when I asked about you and I did peek at a couple of his notes regarding Emissaries when he wasn’t looking.” Jespar responded, thinking back to the time she was gone. “Aranthael called you ‘Prophetess’ if I remember hearing him correctly. He was ordering a couple of the Keepers to go out into the city to look for you.”

“Mhm.”

“Apparently, we’re in the midst of some end-times scenario.’

“Yeah, and I...” Maera trailed off.

“...didn’t take it well.” Jespar concluded out loud, finishing her sentence.

“Imagine being me during the days leading up to you bringing me into Ark, only to find out I’m a key figure in stopping the end of the world?” Maera looked at him witheringly. “How would  _ you _ take it?”

“Not any better, I imagine,” Jespar answered, plainly and honestly.

“Mhm.” Maera took another sip of the brandy.

“I see. And what changed your mind?”

Maera blinked, staring at him in the eyes. He saw her contemplating before carefully setting her drink down by the bottle. She reached for something in her pockets and handed him a small piece of parchment.

“What’s this?”

“Bank receipt.”

Jespar let out a sharp whistle at the numbers he saw.

“I’m eyeing that place by the bathhouse.”

“You’re... almost there…” Jespar could not believe what he was reading. 

_ ‘She’s only been in Enderal for less than a month and has accrued this much. She’s insanely fast.’ _

“I just need a couple hundred more to get the place. Although I still need about two grand to furnish it though.”

“This is still incredibly impressive.” Jespar looked at her, handing her back the receipt. “If you work with the Order, you could have everything you need in no time.”

“Yeah...about that…” Maera pocketed the parchment and picked up her drink. She turned around to lean against the parapet, gazing at the scene around them. “I… I think I made a mistake, joining the Order.”

“What makes you say that?”

Maera looked down. For a brief moment, Jespar noticed a flash of fear and frustration in her eyes. She closed them, and downed the remainder in her cup...

...and poured herself another.

_ ‘Wine was the right call, it seems.’ _

“So, you were asking me earlier about the trial,” Maera began, biting her lips. “...well, I don’t know if the stories you heard about them are true, but for me…” She trailed off into thought, gently swirling the goblet before taking a sip of the brandy.

Jespar watched her face intently in an attempt to understand her. 

“Well, first they brought us out into the Whisperwood...to some ritual site.”

“The First Foothold. I’ve heard about it,” Jespar commented out loud.

“Yes, that place,” Maera nodded. “When we were there, they had us recite some vows.”

“Okay, seems normal so far…”

“...and had us drink this weird concoction.”

Jespar blinked at her. “Okay, that’s a little weird, but not unheard of when it comes to religious rituals.”

“I felt a little sick…. and blacked out,” Maera added bluntly.

“That’s...a little more unsettling.” Jespar stared evenly at her. “I’m guessing you didn’t expect that, did you?” 

Maera looked back at him and shook her head. “No, and that was the only good part.”

“And the bad part?”

They shared a look. Despite her calm expression, Jespar was starting to recognize the emotions in Maera’s eyes, albeit they were still very well hidden. 

This time around, she looked...haunted?

“I…” Maera turned her sights away from him, as though she was able to notice him reading her. “I found myself trapped, locked in some...prison, and I wasn’t alone.”

“Anyone you know?” he queried.

“Not...quite.” Maera paused for a couple moments. “He said a couple things about me, telling me things I did not want to hear or believe.”

“What did he say?”

“That I was lured into a trap. That I’m a fool and that I am actually dead… that all of this…” Maera gestured to the world around them with a wave of her hand. “Everything I’m experiencing up until now, like our conversation...” She glanced at him and tapped her temple with her fingers. “It’s all in my head...as I’m drowning - dying - in the bottom of the sea.”

Jespar stayed quiet to let her continue.

Maera’s voice hushed in sadness. “He made it sound as though you and I never met. Like you’re a figment of my imagination and none of this is real.”

Jespar watched her stare at her drink, lost in her miserable thoughts. Worried, he tapped her shoulder in an attempt to snap her out of it. “You don’t believe that, do you? I mean…” He tried to think of something reasonable to calm her fears. “You passed the trial, and you’re here. You must’ve been able to see through whatever lies he was trying to tell you.”

“For the most part, yeah, I don’t believe him, but...” Maera replied quickly but her voice was faltering. “...a small part of me thinks that there is some truth in what he was telling me. I’m just not sure what…” 

“It could be just your mind playing games on you… it has been known to do that to people. Besides, you  _ are _ only human.” Jespar pondered out loud.

“I suppose…” Maera did not sound convinced regardless of his attempts to comfort her. “He also said a couple other things…” she continued, “As I listened to him, he began to remind me of someone…”

“Oh? Who?”

Maera glanced at him, and he returned her gaze. For once, she allowed him to see the fear and anxiety plainly in her eyes. 

“My father.” 

_ ‘Please don’t ask me about him.’ _ Her eyes begged him.

_ ‘I won’t.’ _ He returned with merely a nod. 

“I see.” 

They looked away from each other, and both allowed a couple moments of silence to pass. Jespar waited patiently as Maera topped off her drink, taking another sip before continuing. 

“You were there too…” she murmured quietly.

“Was I?” Jespar responded gently, curious.

“Mhm.”

“Did I frighten you too?”

“Not...really...?” Maera answered, and Jespar oddly found himself relieved to hear it. “I mean, I began to realize pretty quick that it wasn’t you. But…” She was beginning to fumble her words a bit. Jespar suspected the brandy was starting to affect her. “Yeah, you did… or at least someone who looked like you began to scare me, along with others from recent memory, even those I’ve lost.” Maera leaned against him, shoulder to shoulder. “They were all saying some...pretty terrifying things. Some hurtful… most of it ominous.” She closed her eyes. “Then their voices began to change into something...inhuman. All of them yelled at me and I…” She trailed off.

“What happened?”

“It was over. I woke up, screaming.”

Jespar kept silent.

“Calia had to hold me down and snap me out of it. Apparently, I was utterly delirious...” She stared at the wine in embarrassment. “She was afraid I would hurt myself in my sleep…”

“That sounds like quite the nightmare.” Jespar noted, stroking her shoulder to comfort her. “Definitely unpleasant.”

Maera nodded, and continued to nurse on the remainder of the brandy in her cup.

“So...now…” Jespar gently coaxed her to continue.

“I…” Maera started, and sighed, “I don’t want to go through with the ceremony...or even go back, period. Back to the Temple, to the Order…to Arantheal.” 

“Hmm...yeah, I can understand why. After all that with just the trial... and having the fate of the world being dumped on your shoulders out of nowhere…” Jespar thought about her whole situation out loud. “You just want to be left in peace, basically,” he concluded.

“I want my own life,” Maera clarified. “I can live with a  _ little bit  _ of adventure now and then...but nothing close to what Aranthael is expecting from me.”

“That seems pretty reasonable, actually.” Jespar agreed with her. He glanced at her, “Knowing how you started out when you first came to this country...If I recall, you basically had nothing.”

“Well...” Maera looked back at him. A shy smile teasing the corners of her lips. ”I had you,” she murmured gently and honestly.

_ ‘Okay, I’ll give you that. _ ’

“Yes, you did.”

Maera giggled softly and leaned her head against his shoulders, blushing. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” 

“It’s alright.” Jespar simply chuckled. ”I’ll let the drink take the credit for that. You seemed to have enjoyed my gift quite a fair bit tonight.”

“Have I?” Maera pulled back. She furrowed her brow and picked up the bottle. She gazed at the brandy curiously in the light of the nearby brazier and noticed it was now down to half. She sighed, “Oh dear...so I have.” Jespar laughed at her nonchalant response. Placing the bottle back down, Maera pouted at him, failing to hide a grin from her lips. “I’m glad you find my slight drunkenness amusing.”

“I am,  _ very _ .” Jespar nudged her with his shoulder, prompting another giggle from her.

_ ‘She’s adorable…’ _

“It is really delicious. Again, thank you,” Maera murmured graciously, leaning against him again.

“You’re very welcome, fair lady,” Jespar replied, his voice low and gentle.

After a relaxed sigh, they let another couple peaceful moments pass between them. Jespar watched as Maera’s fingers traced the engravings on the wine goblet. He observed her hands, and felt as though he was peering into her thoughts. In her tipsy state, Jespar could sense Maera internally debate whether to move her hands closer to his.

_ ‘Please...do it…’ _

Slowly and nervously, Maera released the hand next to his from her cup, and allowed her pinky finger to brush lightly against the side of his hand. 

It was the tiniest and gentlest of touch, but it struck him,  _ hard. _

_ ‘Please...give me more…’ _

Jespar returned the gesture. He allowed his own finger to stroke hers back. It was very subtle, but he heard the tiniest gasp escape from Maera’s lips.

_ ‘Don’t do this….This is dangerous…’ _

_ ‘Stop…’ _

“So…” Jespar pulled his hand away and clasped his hands together, hoping to brush the moment away. “What do you plan to do now?”

Maera took in a sharp breath and shifted away herself, as though coming to her own senses as well. “Well I…” she began and trailed off and looked into the horizon. “I...don’t think I can go back. Not after what happened…”

“You’re going to avoid them again?” 

“At least for a little while…” Maera replied, honestly. “I’ll probably grab one of the other rooms at the Dancing Nomad in the meantime, at least until I get the place. Like you said, I’m not that far off.”

“Right.” Jespar nodded unconsciously, stroking his beard.

“You won’t tell them what I told you, will you?”

“I won’t. Don't worry,” Jespar assured her. He then shrugged, “It’s not my place to tell them, anyways.”

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

Another pause.

“Do you disapprove?” Maera queried.

“Of your choice? Not really.” Jespar answered. “As far as I’m concerned, you should be able to live your life the way you want.”

“I…” Maera hesitated, “I still feel guilty though. I mean, even if I feel a little bit coerced into it, I still agreed to join them.”

“Yes, but,” Jespar poked her shoulder, “When you agreed to join them, they weren’t exactly forward about drinking a strange potion that made you black out, followed by an experience with terrifying nightmares… and that’s just to start.”

“Yeah...that’s true.”

“Listen, don’t feel too bad about putting some space between yourself and the Order for a little while. How you feel is completely reasonable, and at the very least you tried to give them a shot.”

“Am I wrong for running away from them?” Maera wondered out loud.

“Honestly…” Jespar mused, “Hm… That’s just life, I think. There comes a point where you’ve done all you can.”

“Mhm…” Maera took another sip of her drink.

As the air around them began to chill, Jespar was beginning to feel his shoulders ache with fatigue. He looked over at Maera, and noticed her blinking, as though fighting to keep her eyes open.

“My, my, now we’ve certainly lost track of time, haven’t we?” Jespar yawned, covering his mouth and arching his back to stretch. 

Maera watched him, her lips not leaving her drink. “Mhm…” she sighed, taking one more sip.

“I really need to hit the hay for a couple hours now,” he murmured, letting out another yawn. ”I have to go look for some new work tomorrow and I have heard about a nobleman who is looking for a sellsword. That is if Arantheal or old Bushy Beard doesn’t have a new job for me by then. Say what you want about them. The pay is beyond generous.”

“Mm,” Maera nodded at Jespar, giving him a warm smile. 

“Would you like me to walk you back to the Dancing Nomad?” Jespar asked kindly.

Maera shook her head. “No thank you. I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll be alright.” She raised her cup. “I’m just gonna finish this little bit and enjoy watching the stars for a little while longer.”

“Alright, Maera.”

“Have a good night,” she added, before taking another gulp of the wine he had gifted her.

“I’ll see you around, my friend.” Jespar cast her a warm, sidelong nod before he turned away, and Maera returned her gaze up to watch the stars. 

“Jespar?” she called out to him.

“Yes?” he called back, picking up the small crate he had brought with him earlier.

“I…” Maera paused for a moment, “I am glad you decided to stay...in Ark, I mean. I enjoy your company.”

Jespar stared at her, her back still facing him as she continued to gaze upon the sky above. For a brief moment, he wanted to speak with her a little longer, but decided against it. 

There was always tomorrow, after all.

“Likewise,” he responded simply, “Good night, fair lady.”


	19. Pairings

_ Tap. Tap.  _

In the darkness, she heard the knock. Blearily, Maera opened her eyes. Her head throbbed and the pain worsened with each sound that stirred her awake. 

_ Tap. Tap. Tap.  _

Maera took a quick glance above her. The sun was shining brightly through the windows near the ceiling.

It was morning.

The light made her headache worse. 

_ ‘Oh right... the wine.’  _

_ Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. _

“Yes?” she groaned with a sigh, “Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

_ ‘Jespar.’ _

\---

Outside, Jespar waited for her. Maera sounded weary and he wondered how much longer she stayed behind to watch the stars the night before. Hearing her voice however gave him relief. Given she was still nursing that brandy he bought for her when he left, he was worried whether or not she had made it back safely.

After hearing some shuffling on the other side, he heard a bolt click and her door opened.

Jespar stared at the sight before him.

Maera looked as though she had just woken up. She was still rubbing the sleep from one of her eyes and her hair was utterly dishevelled. She was dressed in the same pale blouse she had on the night before, only hastily buttoned halfway and mismatched. She also appeared to have put on her trousers in haste, with her leather tunic left on the back of a chair presumably from last night.

Part of Jespar thought she looked adorable. The perverted part of him wondered if this is what she looks like if…

_ ‘No. Bad. Stop thinking with your loins.’ _

‘Jespar… good morning...?” she mumbled, blinking. Her voice snapped him back to attention.

“Good morning, fair lady.” Jespar greeted with a friendly smile and a slight bow. “May I come in?” He lifted up a small package in his hand. ”I brought breakfast.”

“Oh…” Maera looked at him, blinked and nodded, stepping aside to sit back down on her bed. “Yes, of course. Come in.”

Bolting the door behind him, Jespar set down the clothed parcel upon the table in the corner and unwrapped it, revealing a waterskin, a loaf of bread, a small wedge of cheese, and two apples. “Here,” he spoke, before tossing one of the skins to her. “Water. I imagine after last night you might be a little hungover. You can keep that skin, by the way, I already have one for myself.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Maera uncorked the skin and took a drink. She closed her eyes and sighed with relief, “I really needed this.”

“Glad to help. Here.” With his knife, he portioned off a piece of bread and cheese. He handed them to her. 

“Thank you.” Maera took them and began to eat. 

“So…” Jespar started, taking the seat by the table, “The reason why I’m knocking on your door this morning.” He reached into his tunic and pulled out a piece of parchment. He handed it to her. “I was wondering if you’d like to join me on a job.”

Maera took a look at the sheet. As they ate their breakfast, Jespar watched her eyes scan it over. “It’s a map to places all over Enderal…” Maera raised a brow as she glanced at him. “Treasure hunting?”

“Artifact hunting, specifically,” Jespar replied, picking up the apples. He tossed one to her before taking a bite of the other. “An accountant working for a starling guild down the street was looking for some help. Apparently they’re looking to reconstruct some old Pyrean artifacts, but would like to get their hands on some originals if they can.”

“I assume those artifacts are these sketches at the bottom here?” she asked as she began to eat her apple.

“That is correct.” Jespar took another out of his.

Maera looked at him. “What is he paying in exchange?”

“Their rewards are scribbled under the sketches.” Jespar pointed at the sheet, guiding Maera to take another glance. “We can split the coins fifty-fifty. The gentleman that hired us also says any other valuables we find at the sites can be ours.”

He watched her run the numbers in her head. “If we do this, I can finally get that place.”

“Mhm,” Jespar responded, chewing on another bite of his apple. He swallowed. “It would also get you away from Ark for a little while and...”

“... avoid the Order.” Maera thought out loud.

“Yep. That’s right.”

“Huh…” Maera stared at Jespar, giving him a quizzical look. “Why are you…?” she started, but trailed off, seemingly uncertain of what to say. She continued munching on her apple, as though to quiet herself.

Jespar simply answered what he knew she was going to ask “Hey, I just wanted to help a friend,” he replied, throwing his hands up in an innocent gesture. “Besides…” he lowered his hand to continue eating. “I do like working with you, and since you don’t want to go back to dealing with the Order yet, I figured something like this would be a good alternative in the meantime.”

“I see…” Maera gave him a subtle, wry look. But then shrugged to finish her own fruit.

_ ‘I wonder what she’s thinking...’ _

“So, what do you say?” Jespar asked, casting her a charming glance.

_ ‘No shame, huh?’ _

Maera returned his gaze with a smile, biting her lips.

_ ‘That damned lip bite.’ _

“Sure.”

\---

“Hey, there he is.” 

Calia looked up as Lishari tapped her on the shoulder. The young mage nodded their attention towards the steps leading up to the Dancing Nomad. The pair sat on a bench down the street, hiding behind the fence next to a couple vendor stalls. Fortunately, they were near a young woman who was jovially - and loudly - selling bread to those that passed by, unintentionally providing the perfect cover for their spying.

The two women watched as Jespar stepped out from the inn. Trailing behind him...

“There’s Maera,” Calia pointed out.

“Oh ho! I knew it.” Lishari exclaimed softly yet giddily, covering her mouth as though to contain her excitement. “So, that’s where she went.” The mage nudged Calia at her side with her elbow. “Looks like our little friend had a little  _ fun _ last night.” She blushed at Lishari’s implications, but also at how close she had gotten sitting next to her on the bench. “Don’t you think so?”

“I don’t know…” Calia shrugged, hoping the woman did not see how flush she was making her. “She did say they were only friends…” she added weakly.

“It’s okay, Calia,” Lishari replied, noticing Calia’s reddened cheeks. “I can understand those of you in the Order would feel a little shy talking about these things.”

“Yeah…” Calia shifted her gaze away, afraid to look her in the eyes. “That’s it.”

“Hey! Where did they go?” Lishari stood to look for them. They were no longer where they were last seen.

Standing up next to her, Calia scanned the area, searching for the lost couple. She spotted a brief flash of Jespar’s blue sleeves further away. “There,” she exclaimed, pointing to the pair as they entered the Market District.

The mage grabbed her hand.

Calia stared at Lishari’s fingers as they wrapped around hers.

_ ‘So soft.’ _

“Come on! Let’s follow them!” Lishari exclaimed.

Calia was barely able to respond before the mage began pulling her along. She guided them forward across the Foreign Quarter, eager as a curious puppy tugging at their owner with their leash. Upon entering the Market, Lishari cast a glance around.

“Did we lose them?” Calia asked out loud. 

“No, they’re over there, heading into the South Quarter,” Lishari answered. She pointed to the pair as the gates closed behind them.

The two women went after them.

As they stepped through the gates themselves, both had lost track of Jespar and Maera. 

“Where did they go?” Lishari sighed, pouting in annoyance.

“I have no idea...” Calia replied.

Above them, the animalistic rumblings coming from the Myrad Tower caught their attention. Both looked up. Maera was speaking to the Myrad Keeper, while Jespar was gently petting the massive animal resting next to them.

“What are they doing?” Calia wondered out loud. Lishari simply observed the exchange before them.

After Maera handed what appeared to be a handful of coins to the young man, he nodded and waved to Jespar. The mercenary proceeded to seat himself upon the beast and then offered Maera his hand. Calia and Lishari watched as the young woman took it to seat herself behind him, holding onto his waist. Once they appeared to be seated comfortably, the Myrad Keeper seemingly communicated with the winged creature, and gave them their destination.

“They’re leaving...” Calia concluded, as the Myrad departed from the tower.

“Looks like it.” Lishari responded dryly, as the beast flew out of the city. “I wonder where they’re going…”

Calia thought for a moment as something came up in the back of her mind. “Lishari…” The mage turned her attention to the woman next to her. “The Order will want to know about this. We haven’t even done the ceremony yet.”

Lishari glanced at her. “Shit. The Mages will want to know this too...” she muttered, crossing her arms. She looked up at the sky, seemingly lost in thought. “Why did you leave, girl?” she pondered out loud.

Calia’s memory suddenly returned to the day before - to the conclusion of their trials. Her own dreams of tribulations had been troubling and stressful, and on occasion even frightened her. But upon awakening herself, Calia simply felt uncomfortable and only a little unsettled by what she had gone through.

Maera, however, woke up with a terrified wail.

“The trial…” Calia murmured softly, catching Lishari’s attention again. “From what I remember, It was...very difficult for her. When Maera woke up from it, she was screaming and crying. I had to hold her hands down on the bed because she was flailing so violently in her sleep. I was worried she might hurt herself. It took me a while to calm her down when she woke up.”

Lishari furrowed her brow worriedly, her gaze drifting to the side contemplatively. “So that’s why she looked so upset earlier...” she muttered.

“What do you mean?”

The mage stared at Calia. “Before she received Dal’Varek’s letter yesterday from that boy, I saw her stepping out of the Emporium,” she explained. “She looked...quite unhappy.”

“Oh, right.” Calia remembered Maera was rather shaken as they left the Curarium. “I believe she had gone to speak with the Grandmaster after she woke up.”

“Mhm,” Lishari nodded. “I have a feeling she’s having second thoughts again about joining the Order,” she explained.

“Again? So…What do we do? Should we tell Arantheal? Firespark?”

Calia observed Lishari as she looked back up at the Myrad Tower. The mage was quietly mulling over her thoughts and the former waited patiently.

“I think…” Lishari sighed, after several moments, “I think we should just wait for her. Before she took the trial, Maera did tell me that she hoped to buy a home in the city. I have a feeling she'll be back, eventually. She cannot avoid us forever.”

“I suppose… yeah.”

“Are you okay with that?” Lishari glanced at her empathetically. “If I’m right, it’s your ceremony too, isn’t it? She might end up delaying it by running off.”

“Honestly…” Calia thought for a moment, then shrugged, “That’s all it is, really...a ceremony. I've witnessed it plenty of times before, so I know what it entails. I already passed the trial, so I know I’m qualified to be a Keeper regardless. I can be patient for a little while longer.” 

“Mm, fair enough.”

“Besides,” Calia added, her mind returned to her new friend, “I’m a bit more worried about Maera. When people go through the trial, I've only seen them either wake up looking a little bit shaken...or end up like Dunwar.”

“That novice who won’t wake up?”

“Mhm,” Calia nodded. “As for her, she…well…. I haven’t seen or heard of someone waking up  _ that _ violently before.”

“Really…?” Lishari had that ponderous look in her almond-shaped eyes. “Hmm…I wonder...”

“What is it?” Calia asked, and the mage cast a curious glance at her. 

After a couple moments, Lishari sighed. “Well, I don’t know how up to speed you are with what’s been going on lately, but when I first met her…”

Calia listened.


	20. Trails

“That’s a… fair number of undead over there...”

“How many?”

“Two, maybe three?” Jespar replied, kneeling next to her behind the ridge. “There is at least one with a bow. I cannot make out an exact number due to the brush.”

Maera scanned the area off to the west. “That crumbled building over there... I count two. Unless we like getting nailed from behind…” Jespar snorted at her choice of words. “Yes, yes, get it out of your system,” she snickered back. “Anyways, we need to clear them out before we head to the ruins.”

“Agreed,” Jespar added, stifling his amusement. He glanced at her curiously. “How is your magic nowadays? Last I recall, you only just started delving a bit into healing magic.”

“Oh... I’m not sure,” Maera replied thoughtfully. “I have been reading up on the other schools whenever I have the time. I’ve also been able to get by alright with the spells I’ve managed to pick up and grow comfortable with. On the other hand... I  _ am _ still learning... ” She gave him an uncertain glance. “You know, I think by being a… what did Aranthael call me? Not just the Prophetess. The other one…”

“...an Emissary, I believe?” Jespar offered.

“Right, that. It’s definitely skewing the development time of my magical abilities.” She took another look at the two buildings again, double-checking their hostile count. “From what I've been able to read, it is supposed to take years for mages to learn some of the spells I’ve picked up...”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to see what you’ve got then, hm?”

“I’m surprised my lack of confidence doesn’t concern you,” Maera grumbled, tossing him a sideways glance. “The more I think about it, the more nervous I get knowing you’re also here. I’ve gotten used to just worrying about my own safety, but now I have to think about you too.”

“I appreciate the concern, Maera. But don’t worry. I can take care of myself,” Jespar reassured her with a grin. “Besides, you were able to earn several grand in coins within less than a month  _ by yourself _ ,” he explained. “Frankly, I’m quite curious about what you can do now.”

"Alright then." Maera smiled nervously. She took one more glance to count their enemies from afar and nodded to him. "Let’s go."

As quietly as they could, Jespar and Maera crept towards the stone building with the collapsed roof. Jespar trailed her from behind and kept an eye on their flank, standing beside her as she stopped by the back entrance. He watched as she slowly peeked around the corner. The archer was standing mere meters away and its partner was a little further beyond, idling outside by the building's front doorway and wielding a warhammer.

Before Jespar could ask what she was planning, he saw Maera flick her wrist, casting a pale light towards the skeletal archer inside. 

It froze in place. 

Alerted, the other skeleton came into the building to inspect its partner, holding its weapon at the ready. Before it saw her, Maera cast a green spell, causing that skeleton to become rigid and fall to the ground like a toppled statue. With both enemies under her spells, Maera ran ahead to the skeleton on the ground and took its hammer. Jespar watched as she lifted it slowly - straining at the weight of it - and swung it back down hard on the undead’s skull, utterly shattering it. She then turned around towards the archer and readied herself as it stumbled back, breaking free from her spell. Before it was able to nock an arrow on its bow, Maera swung the hammer again, snapping its skull right off its spine. With the head severed, it collapsed into a pile of bones on the ground.

Now both skeletons were dealt with and only the three by the ruins remained. Maera looked towards him and dropped the warhammer, panting at the weight of it. She waved him over.

Jespar simply blinked at her.

“Huh. That works," he remarked. “I don’t remember you being able to stop others in place before. That’s pretty handy.”

“It’s not as easy as it looks,” Maera sighed, wincing as she rubbed her temples. “It’s quite stressful mentally, even for a couple seconds. While one disabling spell is cast-and-go, the other requires me to concentrate on keeping whatever I have contained  _ completely _ locked down  _ as _ I’m fighting.” 

“The one you cast on the archer?” Jespar wondered.

Maera nodded. “It’s a powerful spell, but there are some more technical nuances that I’m trying to figure out,” she added. Coming up the northern wall, she eyed the ruins. “Anyways, I’ll spare you the details for another time. What about the skeletons over there? You guessed two, right?”

“Or three,” Jespar reminded her, taking a look himself.

“Do you see the archer?” she asked, searching for it herself. “I want to take him down from a distance first. I don’t want to risk either of us getting shot at.”

“I see it. It’s standing a couple feet to the left of the door to the right,” he tapped her shoulder and pointed it out to her.

“Right, got it.” Maera glanced nervously at Jespar. “How lucky do you think we are?”

“I don’t know…” Jespar gave her a curious look. “Why?”

“There is a spell I’ve been practicing recently,” she murmured anxiously, “I’ve been able to use it successfully on beasts and bandits... but I haven’t tried it on these undead creatures to see if it'll work...”

“Well, no time like the present, right?”

With a hesitant nod, Maera returned to gaze over the wall. Jespar watched as she raised her hand. A tiny, dark, glowing red orb formed within her palm and she flicked it over with a flourish of the wrist and a snap of her fingers. His eyes followed the tiny ball of magic. It flew across the grassy clearing and smacked the undead creature wielding a battle axe in the back of the head.

_ ‘Well, she’s got good aim…’  _ Jespar thought to himself.

The skeleton swung around in agitation, looking for the source of the spell. After several moments, the undead creature brushed off the provocation and resumed standing guard by the doors to the ruins.

“That was...less impressive,” Jespar commented lightly.

“Damn…” Maera cursed, coming back down to lean against the wall. She huffed with a pout. “I was hoping it would at least go berserk and help us take out one of the others.”

“It was supposed to go berserk?” Jespar eyed her worriedly. “That’s psionics, right? You do know using that kind of magic is frowned upon in the civilized world, don’t you? Especially in an old-fashioned country like Enderal.”

Maera stayed silent, turning her gaze away from him.  _ She knows. _

“Maera?” Jespar attempted to coax a response from her. “That school of magic has been known to allow its users to get into people’s heads - to manipulate them… force them to think or do things they wouldn’t otherwise. There is a reason why it  _ is _ forbidden in this country. You’re not stupid. I have a feeling you knew this before you started learning that spell.”

“What would you have me do?” Maera whispered with a hiss, staring sharply at him. “I certainly cannot  _ heal _ my enemies to death.” 

“Why not elementalism? You know - fire, ice, lightning, earth?” Jespar argued back, “Their use is far more common and people are less likely to give you crap for practicing it.”

“I…” Maera took a quick glance over the wall to ensure their enemies still patrolled the ruins. “I can’t.”

“Why not? Aren’t Emissaries supposed to be able to pick up skills faster than others?”

“I don’t know. My guess is that my connection to the elements is just…” Maera paused, as though trying to figure out what to say. “They just feel... too wild.“

“Too wild?” Jespar raised a brow at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I haven’t been able to figure out how to control them safely yet,” Maera clarified, “Every time I’ve tried, well… let’s just say I’ve been lucky no one has asked me to rescue a parent or child yet. It’s usually been ‘retrieve this bounty’, ‘clear out the criminals from this hideout’ or ‘get my precious item from that bastard and kill them off for me’.”

“So...what tends to happen?”

“With the spells I’ve managed to pick up on so far? Usually everything gets burned or frozen to death, and I cannot stop channeling those spells until... well… I’ve more or less exhausted myself.” Maera sighed heavily in frustration, “I’ve put myself in danger far too many times using those spells, so I just gave up trying to use them after a while.” She glanced at him anxiously. “Plus, with you here, I’m definitely not going to make another attempt. I know you can take care of yourself, Jespar. But I cannot safely say I can control my elemental magic once I conjure it. I don’t want to hurt you by accident or add any sort of unnecessary risk in general.”

“Yeah...but...” Jespar trailed off, uncertain of what to say. To her credit, Maera was right to be cautious. If she could not control that magic… well… Jespar did not relish the idea of being set on fire by accident.

“So, given my capabilities in one school of magic is far too dangerous, and the other is purely defensive, the Sinistra school is the only other school I feel capable of using.” Maera turned her gaze away. “I do what I can to make the most of what I have…” she murmured, “... _ to survive. _ ”

“Maera...” Jespar tugged at her arm, urging her to look him in the eyes. She glanced back. Her brows were furrowed and he could see traces of disappointment and dread in her eyes. 

He sighed.  _ ‘She doesn’t like this anymore than I do.’ _

“Listen, I’m not going to be the one to pass judgement - I’m the last person who wants to do that to you,” Jespar explained. As she began to drift her sights away in shame, he held her by her chin to refocus her attention towards him. “I just want you to be careful, alright?” he clarified. “I understand you are only doing what you can. Just be mindful of who and what’s around you when you’re using those spells. People tend to be fearful of those who can use that kind of magic. Like I said, it has been known to really mess with people’s heads.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I just don’t want to see you locked up or hanged for it, alright?”

Maera blinked at him, as though to hold back tears.  _ ‘She’s definitely ashamed...’ _

Jespar let her go to allow her to wipe some away from her eyes.

“Alright, Jespar. I’ll be careful.” 

As Maera looked back over the wall, Jespar returned his attention back to the ruins as well. All three undead - he finally confirmed - were still there, guarding the doors.

“Jespar?” Maera’s soft voice broke the disquiet that hung over them.

“Yes, Maera?”

“What you said...about psionics? How it empowers its practitioners to make others do things they wouldn’t normally do...?”

“Yeah?”

“You know I would  _ never _ use that magic on you, right?”

_ ‘Why did she ask me that?’ _

Jespar turned his head to stare at her. Maera still kept her sights on their enemies ahead, but he could see her eyes water.

_ ‘It’s really bothering her…’ _

“I... “ Maera sniffled, her murmurs shivering. “I would never  _ force _ you to do, think, or feel anything you didn’t want to - you know that, don’t you?”

Jespar never even considered the possibility of her using psionics on him until she brought it up that very moment. In that instant, he looked back as far as their first encounter at the Sun Coast, thinking about all the times they have spent together so far. Out of all of his interactions with her - whether they were thoughts, feelings, actions - did any of them feel as though they were not his own? Would he even be able to tell?

_ ‘Are my feelings for her even real?’ _

_ ‘Are they even  _ **_those_ ** _ feelings? Or merely an innocent attraction?’ _

_ ‘You’re  _ **_just_ ** _ getting to know one another, after all.’ _

_ ‘You don’t even know how you feel about her yet…’ _

_ ‘That does feel...natural …right.’ _

_ ‘That’s true...’ _

Thinking upon it further, Jespar considered their relationship - their  _ working  _ relationship, he reminded himself - at that very moment. If Maera even suspected that he saw her use of psionics in a negative light, could she not simply use said magic to change his perspective of her? Going over the past couple days, it occurred to Jespar that she had every opportunity to manipulate him, but did not.

_ ‘Of course, she wouldn’t.’ _

Gazing back at Maera, Jespar could see his delay in responding to her was causing her distress. She held herself firm, but he could see her balling her hands tightly into fists, as though it would help her ease her trembling. Jespar reached for one of her hands, unravelling her closed fingers and giving them a gentle squeeze with his own. When Maera looked back, he stared into her eyes and spoke as gently and comfortingly as he could.

“I know.”

From afar, a raven crowed.

\---

Through Gin’s eyes, Aisa observed the fledgling couple. The bird was perched upon a tree overlooking the ruins, so it could hear them clearly.

It did not take long for the pair to clear out Old Dolesch. After agreeing upon a quick plan, Jespar and Maera engaged those that protected the exterior of the ruins. The young girl locked down the archer in a rift and paralyzed the one carrying the battle axe. As Maera held them in place, the young man took down the undead creature wielding a pickaxe by snapping its neck. He did the same to the other creatures as they slowly began to break free. The pair then entered the ruins together from the west entrance. After a time, they came out the east, with Maera carrying the Pyrean urn.

_ ‘She is getting stronger, my lady.’ _

_ ‘Indeed, she is.’ _

“So...should we head back to Ark?” Maera asked. 

“We could. Aren’t you worried about the Keepers looking for you?” Jespar replied questioningly.

The young woman looked at the sky, as though to search the sun for the time. “If we head back the way we came via Myrad Tower up the hill, we should arrive by the dinnertime rush. I could hide among the crowds and wait near the Bank while you retrieve our payment...”

“...after which you can deposit your share and we can leave right after.” Jespar nodded. “Yeah, that could work.”

“Where should we go after?”

The young man took out the parchment - their map. They looked over it together.

“Well… according to this, we can go to either Duneville or the Frostcliff Mountains, so… hot or cold?”

“I don’t have anything for colder weather,” Maera replied. “But I think I can find something in the market while I wait for you. I’ve been thinking of getting a cloak of sorts anyways to deal with the cooler nights here.”

“Plus there is an inn located near that area’s Myrad Tower,” Jespar added, “You can hide from the Order there, and we can take our time to rest, stock up and prepare before heading towards the ruins to the northwest.”

“Okay then. Sounds like a plan.” 

The pair made their way back to the Myrad Tower.

_ ‘What shall I do, my lady? Would you like me to follow them?’ _

Aisa thought for a moment. 

_ ‘No need, child. You are free to return to your brother.’ _

_ ‘Very well, my lady.’ _

Closing the connection to the raven, Aisa’s mind returned to the girl. 

_ ‘Her connection to the elements is strong… but she has no control. She also continues to dabble into the deeper magics...’ _

It worried the old woman.

_ ‘The child has the potential to be extremely powerful … But she is nonetheless  _ **_still_ ** _ a child… a child haunted by demons of her own.’ _

She pondered.

_ ‘It explains why she struggles...’ _

Aisa stroked her chin, and gazed out the window of her hut.

_ ‘There is so much turmoil deep within her. If she allows those wounds to fester… her magic will consume her...‘ _

She grimaced.

_ ‘I need to keep a closer eye on her...’ _


	21. Shatter

“It’s beautiful…”

Jespar looked up from the map. Maera was standing little further up the path, mesmerized by the sight before them. He smiled in admiration at her wonder.

“The Crystal Forest. It's quite a sight, isn’t it?” 

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” she sighed, her warm breath billowing into the icy air. She turned to face him as he approached her. “How is this possible?” she asked.

“There is a place called the Living Temple deep in these woods. Apparently the magic within is what’s causing all this,” Jespar explained, gesturing at the crystals with his hands.

“Is that where we’re heading?” she asked, returning to him to look at the map. 

“Hmm..” Both of them examined the parchment as Jespar thought out loud, “I don’t think so. The place we’re looking for is called ‘Old Miskahmur’, and by the looks of it, it’s just up the hill from here.”

“Alright then.” With a shiver, Maera tightened the clasp on her cloak. “Shall we?”

“Mhm.”

Together, they approached the ruins.

\---

From a distance, Aisa followed.

The old witch had been with them since they left the Tavern, keeping very well hidden under a veil of concealment and silence made of her own magic. She observed them watch out for one another as they carefully worked through the creatures blocking their path - the undead, elementals, and trolls. Aisa quickly realized that the couple was getting better in their routine. Maera would distract, divert, or lock down, and Jespar would pick off stragglers or those affected by her mentalism and psionic spells, one by one. Maera would also protect them both with shields and wards, augmented by healing whenever one of them received an injury.

Upon entering the temple, they come across two bodies - highwaymen - likely killed by the trolls they had dealt with moments prior. As Jespar inspected their remains, Maera searched through one of their backpacks. 

“There’s a note in here,” the young woman exclaimed.

Jespar looked over to her. “What does it say?”

_ “Search for the three levers which open the gates - but watch out for the traps!”  _ Maera read out loud. “ _ Meet me in the Undercity when you have found what I am searching for. And don’t tell anybody hereof!” _

“Who signed it?” Jespar asked, peering over her shoulder.

“No idea.” Maera flipped the note to inspect the back before reading it again. “They only signed with an ‘X’,” she remarked.

“Hmm…” Jespar thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, at least we know to keep an eye out for traps. Let’s move forward.”

As the pair delved deeper into the ruins, Aisa observed Maera. The young woman began blinking from time to time, rubbing her temple with the ball of her hand. Jespar began to notice as well.

“Hey, are you alright?” he asked.

“I...I’m alright. Just a bit of a headache,” Maera responded.

_ ‘That’s not a mere headache…’ _ Aisa began to sense something as well as they ventured further. The crystals within these ruins were not quite like the ones outside. They held old magic - old, volatile…

...dangerous.

_ ‘It is not safe for her here.’ _

“You don’t look well,” Jespar observed. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

Maera waved her hand dismissively to continue onward. “We’ve come so far already. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I’m sure it’ll go away in a little while.” 

“Okay…”

As they turned around a corner, they found the first lever. It was in a room down the hall, guarded by a pair of frost golems and two ballistae, both fully armed. Before the golems could see them, they stepped back and opted to peek around the corner instead.

“That’s an obvious trap.” Jespar remarked in a whisper. He turned to look at Maera, who was now leaning against the wall for support. She was visibly weary. “Hey...maybe you shouldn’t go further.”

“I don’t want you going in there yourself, and we need to pull that lever...”

Aisa watched as Maera thought for a moment, despite her discomfort.

“Move over.”

“What are you doing?” Jespar asked, as he swapped places with her.

“Trying something.”

Raising her hand, Maera’s palm began to glow with a pale orange light. Jespar and Aisa watch as another light formed further down around the handle of the lever. Maera balled her hand into a fist.

Metal began to creak.

_ ‘Telekinesis.’ _

“Maera…?”

“Shh,” she hushed him, “I’m trying to concentrate. I’ve never tried this before.” Sweat began to form on her brow as she pulled on the lever from a distance. “This is harder than it looks…”

The lever switched, and both ballistae fired, blowing up one of the golems as it stood in the trajectory. As the other golem hobbled over to inspect its fallen comrade, Maera stepped back as silently as she could, ushering Jespar away from the corner. 

“One down… two to go. Let’s go, before it sees us.”

“Alright.”

Aisa followed.

The old woman watched as they came upon the second chamber, hiding around the corner in one of the side rooms of the hall. Inside the chamber were two spirits and one spectral skeleton wielding a battle axe. The lever - the couple noticed - sat near the far wall. Jespar also pointed out quietly to Maera that he could see some unusually shaped floor panels. “Those are traps,” he observed in a hushed voice. “I’m guessing fire, or poison.” He looked back at her. “How are you feeling?”

It was then that Maera appeared to accept that the magic within the ruins was adversely affecting her. “I think there  _ is _ something off about this place,” she groaned, massaging her temples with her gloved fingers. “I wasn’t sure at first when we were near the previous room. But coming up to this one… my headache feels like it gets worse the closer I get to it.” She hissed, as though her pain intensified. “I think this place is being protected by something.”

“Do you think you can do the same trick you pulled in the last chamber?” Jespar asked.

“I can try…” Maera raised her hand and formed the telekinetic spell. She stretched out her hand further, as though searching for the limit of its range. “I almost...have it...” Luckily, the pale orange light began to form - albeit slower - around the handle of the lever. Unlike the first one, it took Maera longer to grasp onto it.

_ ‘That’s her limit…’ _ Aisa observed.

The lever was pulled, and the couple remained undetected by the dead that protected it.

“Just one more then…” Jespar sighed, as they began to sneak away.

\---

The third chamber lay deeper within the halls. From the peculiar dark glow that emanated from it, they noticed immediately that it also held a much higher concentration of the ruin’s crystals. After circumventing a frost golem that was patrolling nearby, the pair hid behind one of the large metal pipes lining vertically along the walls. Maera's headache had worsened, so they were forced to observe the chamber from an even further distance. From where they stood, Jespar could only guess there were around three to four undead guarding the lever within. 

Jespar tossed a glance at Maera as she stood beside him, leaning against the wall on her side. Her eyes were shut and she was rubbing her temples with her fingers, wincing in pain. She was sweating, and her skin had gotten paler.

“Maera, you look ill...” he murmured worriedly.

“I…” She shook her head. “Don’t worry about me. We’re almost done.” She shifted over to look around him. “What should we do? I don’t think I can reach that lever…” She glanced up at him. “...and I don’t want you to deal with those things yourself.”

Jespar took another look at the chamber ahead. “I think we might need to draw them out somehow one by…” Something shifted behind him, and he snapped his attention back. “Shit!” 

“Jespar, what-?”

Jespar grabbed Maera by her shoulders and pulled them out from behind the pipe. They landed hard onto the floor in the hallway, just as a large pointed chunk of ice slammed into where they stood. It struck the metal instead with a loud twang, breaking apart upon impact. As the golem pulled its arm back, the spear of ice reformed around it and the elemental turned to face them, lumbering slowly towards them.

“We need to get out of here…” Jespar breathed. Beside him on the ground, Maera was whimpering, covering her mouth as though she was going to be sick. “Maera?”

Maera cast him a terrified glance before something suddenly drew her attention away. She turned her sights towards the chamber and Jespar felt a sharp pain pierced into him. He only had seconds to see that a spectral arrow had impaled itself right in his left collarbone before it disappeared. He hissed in pain and his blood began to spill from the wound. 

The noise the golem had made alerted the undead in the chamber. An archer was now shooting at them, while those wielding either blunt or sharp weapons were heading towards them.

“Jespar!” Maera cried out to him, and a shield of magic was thrown between him and another oncoming arrow. The tip of it stopped just an inch in front of his face before clattering to the ground and dissipating.

Maera scrambled over to his side. One of her hands glowed brightly as it continued to channel the ward that protected him. Switching her attention to the undead, she flicked her free wrist in an attempt to lock down the archer, but one of the other undead took the spell instead as it stepped into its path. Cursing, she snapped her fingers to cast her paralyzing spell on the archer, landing the shot and giving them precious moments of respite from its arrows.

In an attempt to stop his own bleeding, Jespar clutched at his collar and pressed the open, gushing wound. The pain of it shot through his shoulder and down his arm and he began to think the arrow had broken the bone. Glancing up at her, Jespar watched as Maera frantically swapped her attention between him lying injured on the ground, her shield facing the undead, and the elemental approaching from only a few meters away. The golem had taken up the entire width of the hall as it lumbered over, and while two of the undead were stunned - albeit momentarily - at least two others were still hobbling over with weapons drawn. Maera herself was still in a lot of visible pain from her headache, and Jespar could see her struggling to figure out what to do and as the seconds ticked away. 

As the golem reached them, Maera used her free hand to conjure a telekinetic spell. She cast the spell directly at the icy creature, but due to the sheer size of it, it merely stumbled back a couple feet. Maera cursed again and as she began to channel the berserk spell, she thought better of it and called it off.

“Fuck…” she hissed, “I can’t use that…we’re too close.”

The frost golem raised its arms, and swung down hard upon the couple. Its spears bounced upon Maera’s ward just as she used her second hand to reinforce it, covering both her and Jespar. It stumbled back, and with the small amount of breathing room they were given, Maera expanded her shields, covering each end of the hallway. Jespar could see that she was about to give out. Her skin had become sweaty, pale and sickly, and her breathing had become laborious as she visibly strained to block the advance of their enemies.

As both the undead and elemental closed in, they began to assault her shields. The golem repeatedly slammed its sharp, massive fists upon it while the undead struck their weapons against it. Maera whimpered in pain. As she continued to hold the creatures at bay, she returned her focus on him. “Jespar...” she panted, her eyes widening at the injury on his neck. “Oh no...You’re losing too much blood…”

“Ma-” Jespar gasped. Before he could utter anything else, the golem slammed its fists down upon her shields,  _ hard. _

The spell shattered. 

The force of its destruction billowed outwards, pushing the elemental back. On the other end of the hall, it knocked the undead off their feet and flung them back against the back wall of the chamber. Maera fell to her knees in exhaustion. She began to heave again, covering her mouth with her hands as though to prevent herself from throwing up. Jespar watched her suppress herself from expelling her sickness and drag herself closer to his side. Raising her quivering hands, a golden light began to form from her palms. It pulsed brightly upon his collar with bursting relief as her spell frantically mended the bone, stopped the bleeding and closed the wound.

“Wait…Maera...”

Jespar’s panic spiked as it finally dawned on him.

_ ‘Her arcanist fever…’ _

“Maera...Don’t do this...” he urged her as it was no longer painful for him to speak. 

_ ‘This place is making it worse!’ _

With his wound finally healed, her light faded.

Maera gave him one last weary look before her eyes rolled back and fluttered shut.

She passed out.

“Maera!” Jespar caught her in his arms as she fell. He turned her around and cupped her cheek. “Maera?” he gasped, shaking her gently. She was completely unconscious. He placed his hand on her forehead, confirming his fears.

_ ‘She’s burning hot…’ _

Looking around them, Jespar noticed the golem had already begun staggering over towards them and the undead were rising to their feet.

_ ‘What do I do? What do I do?’ _

_ ‘Leave, while you still can!’ _

_ ‘I cannot leave her… I have to get her out of here…' _

_ ‘You only have a couple seconds left. The golem is slow. You can run past it on your own!' _

_ ‘Not without her...’ _

_ ‘Leave her! She’s a goner!’ _

\---

From behind her veil, Aisa simply stood there…

_ ‘What will you do, boy?’ _

The old woman sensed the overwhelming terror in Jespar’s mind. She peered into his eyes and saw a flurry of frantic thoughts fighting one another.

_ ‘Does she truly mean so little to you?’ _

She observed Jespar’s hold on Maera tighten. His brow furrowed and his lips twisted in distress. 

A great deal of turmoil plagued his heart.

_ ‘Will you leave her to die?’ _

The frost golem towered over the couple, raising its sharp, massive arms.

_ ‘...or prove yourself wrong?’ _

They began to descend.

Aisa watched as Jespar cried out, covering Maera's body with his own and closing his eyes...

...waiting for the inevitable.

_ ‘Very well then.’ _

The witch snapped her fingers.

\---

The air was suddenly warm.

Ice cold water cascaded upon them.

_ ‘Water…?’ _

Jespar opened his eyes, blinking. He looked up.

The golem had disappeared.

Behind him, he heard the clattering sounds of metal and wood hit stone. Jespar turned to see the undead in the chamber have fallen - the spirits have dissipated into ectoplasmic dust and the once moving corpses have slumped to the ground, their weapons dropped.

_ ‘By the Sun...what…’ _

_ ‘What just happened?’ _

Back down the hall where they came, Jespar heard footsteps, and slow tapping of wood on stone. He turned to see a small light in the shadows. A figure made its way towards them. As it drew closer, he began to realize that the light was an eye...

...of an old woman?

She was skinny, but the heavy furs and leathers that dressed her body indicated she was likely much stronger than she appeared. Her hair was long, bushy - wild - and white as snow, and the closer he looked, her eyes - the one that was  _ not _ glowing - was a bright, piercing yellow. She walked towards them, wielding a wooden staff in her hand, with a peculiar shaped blade sheathed at her side.

_ ‘Was it...her...?’ _

As she approached, Jespar held Maera's unconscious body protectively against him and drew the dagger from his boot. He held his blade at the ready.

“Who the hell are you?” he called out angrily.

_ ‘Do you think that’s a good idea? Given what just happened?’  _ His mind screamed, still in a panic.  _ ‘She’s probably the one that just killed everything around you.’ _

Jespar ignored it. “Answer me!” he yelled.

The light in the old woman’s glowing eye faded, revealing that it was scarred and milky white underneath. She reached up to her face with a wrinkled hand and covered the once glowing eye with a patch she had worn hidden in her hair.

“Who are you?” Jespar repeated, clutching Maera closely against him.

“Put that little thing away, boy,” the woman sighed in annoyance. “Step away from her.”

Jespar swallowed nervously, but shook his head furiously.

“Over my dead body,” he hissed, pointing his dagger towards her. 

The old woman simply rolled her eye. 

“If I wanted you two dead, I’d let those things finish you off.”

_ ‘She’s got a point… _ ’ Jespar slowly lowered his weapon.

“Move aside,” she commanded. “She doesn’t have much time. I can help her,” she added, her voice softer.

Jespar glared at her, and looked back down at Maera. Her skin was still scorching under his touch and she remained completely unconscious. 

There was nothing more he could do for her by himself…

After a moment’s hesitation, Jespar gently laid Maera back down on the floor, kneeling at her side. The old woman knelt down right next to him, resting her staff beside her. She placed her skinny, wrinkled hand on Maera’s forehead, checking the young woman’s fever.

“She’s almost gone...” she murmured.

_ ‘Please, save her…’ _ Jespar stayed silent.

The old woman withdrew her hand and placed both above Maera’s head and chest. They began to glow with that familiar golden light, and between her palm, wispy pale threads of light began to take shape. As the sight before him came into clarity, Jespar noticed the threads forming a pattern that reminded him of string, only frazzled and frayed in its center...

… as though it had been pulled apart with extreme force. 

Only a single fine thread held the bundles together. 

“Poor child. She nearly gave everything…” the woman remarked idly, examining the weave. “Her power is immense, but she is undisciplined… and troubled… ” The old woman grimaced, “She nearly destroyed herself.” 

“Can you heal her?” Jespar asked urgently.

“Of course I can.”

The light in the old woman’s hands began to pulsate, and before them, the frayed threads began to reconnect. Jespar watched in awe as they returned to what he presumed was their normal state - a harmonizing pattern of light. Upon the final string returning to its place, the witch lowered her hands, as though returning the weave back into Maera’s body. The lights faded, as did the glow from her palms.

“I must say,” the old woman spoke, as she placed her hand again on Maera’s forehead. Jespar glanced at her. “You surprised me.”

“What do you mean?” he asked quietly.

“For a moment back there, I really did think you were going to abandon her…” She removed her hand and stared at him with an amused smirk on her face. “...given your past.”

Jespar felt his blood turn cold and a heavy pit form in his stomach.

_ ‘What the fuck?’ _

“But you chose to stay,” she added. “You put yourself in front of her to protect her against the elemental. More impressively, you did the same against me. I was relieved to see that.”

Before he had a chance to respond, a weak moan escaped from Maera’s lips.

“Careful...” the witch added lightheartedly, nodding her head down towards the young woman. 

It was a warning.

_ ‘She might hear you.’  _ The old woman said with merely an arch of her brow. 

Jespar held his tongue and turned his attention to Maera. He picked her up gently in his arms, and felt her forehead for himself. She was still warm, but significantly less than she was moments ago. “Maera?” he murmured softly, cupping her cheeks. “Can you hear me?” Maera did not respond, but merely continued to groan.

“She’s still delirious from her fever. It hasn’t quite subsided yet,” the old woman remarked. “Here.” She held out something to him in her palm - a tiny bottle filled with a pale, silvery liquid.

“What is it?” Jespar eyed it suspiciously.

“Ambrosia. Stronger than whatever amateur swill she bought for herself. Take her to the entrance of this place. It’s where the crystals can no longer affect her. Then carefully feed this to her,” the old woman instructed. Jespar took the flask from her and tucked it into one of his pockets. “Then wait for me. I will retrieve the artifact for you.”

“What…” 

Jespar watched as the old woman stood up, picking up her staff. Without taking another step, she turned her attention towards the lever in the third chamber. She raised her hand and snapped her fingers. With a spark of orange light flashing from her fingertips, she flipped the switch from afar. She cast her eye back down upon Jespar. “Well? What are you waiting for?” she snapped, “Let’s go.”

Too shocked to respond after everything that has happened, Jespar lifted Maera carefully off the ground and stood up himself, holding her tightly against him. They traveled back down the halls together, and as they found themselves in the main corridor, Jespar watched as the old woman wordlessly ventured deeper into the ruins. He on the other hand did as the witch instructed, and took Maera back up the ramp leading to the entrance.

Passing by the bodies of the two highwaymen, Jespar laid Maera down gently by the door. He sat down cross-legged next to her, pulling her up to cradle her body against him. Taking the witch’s flask from his pocket, Jespar carefully raised Maera's head up and opened it, placing the mouth of the bottle at her lips. 

As slowly and as carefully as he could, he began to pour.

“Please...drink…” he begged Maera with a whisper.

Maera weakly swallowed the Ambrosia, despite her heavily fevered state. The anxious lump Jespar just realized that was trapped in his throat finally left him. With all the frantic chaos starting to settle, he felt the terror and adrenaline escape his veins...

...only to be replaced by a wracking, agonizing sense of guilt.

_ “Poor child. She nearly gave everything…” _ the old witch’s words haunted him.

_ ‘She was trying to protect me…’ _

_ ‘You were scared.’ _

_ ‘Healing me almost killed her…’ _

_ ‘It was your life or hers...’ _

_ ‘How could I be so selfish? How could I even think of leaving her…? Of abandoning her…? After she almost died trying to keep me safe...’  _

Gazing sadly upon her face, Jespar gently stroked Maera’s cheeks with his finger, as the last drop of Ambrosia fell between her lips. 

_ ‘I…’ _

Pulling Maera into a tight embrace, Jespar closed his eyes, as though to prevent the tears welling up in his eyes from escaping. Even though Maera was still unconscious and could not see them, he did not want to let them fall.

_ ‘I’m bad for her…’ _

_ ‘I was right. This was a mistake.’ _

_ ‘I almost let her die…’ _

_ ‘Just like…’ _

The tears fell.

_ ‘Just like… Lysia...’ _

“I...I’m so sorry…Maera...” Jespar whispered, even though no one could hear him.

The old woman’s reassuring words returned to him.

_ “But you chose to stay…” _

Jespar slowly opened his eyes.

_“You put yourself in front of her to protect her against the elemental,”_ he recalled her saying. _“More impressively, you did the same against me. I was relieved to see that.”_

_ ‘She’s right…’ _

_ ‘I chose to stay.’ _

_ ‘I chose to protect her.’ _

_ ‘To put my own life on the line…’ _

_ ‘What is happening to me?’ _

Jespar sat up, and gazed upon her. As he caressed her face, relief washed over him as he realized Maera’s fever was dying down, and she was resting peacefully, sound asleep.

_ ‘Maera…’ _

He watched her slumber and his heart ached as she nuzzled her cheeks against his palm, as though seeking comfort in its warmth.

_ ‘I...I don’t know what I’m feeling anymore…’ _

He lowered his head, resting his forehead against hers.

_ ‘But…’ _

He brushed his lips against her forehead, 

_ ‘I promise… I will never abandon you…’ _

Jespar planted a gentle kiss upon Maera’s brow.

_ ‘...ever.’ _


	22. Fault

“Here. I believe this is what you’re looking for.”

Jespar opened his eyes and looked up. Aisa found him sleeping against the wall by the door, with Maera cradled in his arms. The young woman was slumbering peacefully.

The old woman bent down, and placed the Pyrean Cube by his side. 

“Oh...yeah...” Jespar muttered wearily, his eyes glazing over the artifact. He picked it up for a quick glance, before setting it back down. He returned his sights back to Aisa. “Thank you, mydame...for everything.”

“Hm,” the old witch merely grunted as she stood up. She clasped her hands around her staff. “How is she?” she asked, nodding towards the woman in his lap.

Jespar gazed back down at Maera. He raised a hand and brushed a couple hairs away from her face, checking her forehead with his palm. “Well, her fever is gone more or less. She’s just sleeping now.”

“Good.” Aisa sniffed, and tightened the fastenings on her fur cloak. “Stay with her until she awakens.”

“That’s the plan…” Jespar murmured with a sigh.

Aisa reached for the door. “I’ll be off then.”

“Mydame…” His voice gave her pause.

She looked down at him. “What is it, boy?” 

The young man gazed up at her and hesitated, seemingly uncertain of what to say. “Who are you? What's your name?“

“I'm just a friend.” she replied tersely.

“I see… Does she know who you are?”

Aisa smiled. “Not yet.”

Jespar raised a brow, perplexed. “What should I tell her when she wakes up?”

“Just tell her a strange woman showed up and saved the day… it’ll be enough.”

The poor boy looked even more confused. “Oo...kay…” he muttered, gazing back down at the young woman. “Goodbye then.”

“Farewell, child.” With a nod, Aisa opened the door and left.

\---

It was warm.

_ ‘Wake up…’ _

“Maera?”

It surrounded her.

She felt safe. Happy…

_ ‘You need to wake up.’ _

_ ‘I want to stay here…’ _

“Can you hear me?”

_ ‘Jespar?’ _

The smell of leather, sweat and dried blood struck her first, along with the faints scent of peaceweed.

“Please say something…” she heard him whisper.

Maera slowly opened her eyes, groaning.

_ ‘Pull yourself together, woman,’  _ one urged her.

_ ‘Give her a minute,’ _ another scolded.

Bright, blinding light began to shine through the darkness. She winced in pain.

“Jespar…?” she cried out weakly, rasping as she tasted something metallic on her tongue.

Maera suddenly remembered.

The golem. The undead. Her collapse.

The danger they were in.

Her eyes shot open.

“Jespar?!” Maera cried out, lunging forward.

...followed by a sharp pain to the face.

Something cracked.

“ _ OW! _ ” Jespar yelled loudly from her side.

Covering her face, Maera hissed, her forehead taking the brunt of the impact. Blinking away tears of pain, she looked frantically around her.

It took her a second before her vision cleared and she realized she was sitting in Jespar’s lap. 

_ ‘Isn’t this…?’ _ Confusion swept across her mind.

They were at the entrance of the ruins.

They were fine.

_ ‘What…?!’ _

“What...where…?” Maera turned to look at him. Jespar had his hands on his nose, as blood was trickling from his nostrils.

“Oh...hey…” Jespar replied shakily with a pained grin and crooked nose. “How are you feeling?”

“Aah! Jespar!” Maera realized in an instant what just happened. “I’m so sorry!” she cried, raising her hands to his face.

“Glad to see you’re alright…” he added with a weak chuckle. He hissed as her fingertips brushed lightly on his bridge. “Eeuuhh..”

“I’m so sorry, Jespar…” Maera cast a gentle healing spell on his nose. “I didn’t mean to…”

“I know,” Jespar responded. He let out a grunt as she set it back in its place with a dull pop. "It’s alright, really," he added, wincing.

With a relieved sigh, Maera finally had the chance to look around them again. She noticed the Pyrean Cube on the ground beside them.

“That’s...”

“Yep.”

Maera looked up at him in utter confusion.

“What happened? I thought...”

“Some strange woman saved our asses,” Jespar replied with a shrug. “She came out of nowhere, dealt with those… things attacking us.” He picked up the cube. “One thing led to another...and next thing I know, we’re out here with this stupid thing.” 

“Huh…” Maera simply stared at it, dumbfounded.

_ ‘Was it the Veiled Woman? Did she save us?’ _

“Anyways…” Jespar placed the cube back on the ground. His eyes then focused on their hands. He idly played with her fingers in contemplation. “I think we need to reconsider finding the last artifact...”

“Huh?” Maera glanced at him, and he looked back up at her. “Are you sure?”

“I should’ve pulled us out the moment I noticed this place was making you sick,” Jespar replied with a nod. “I took the job. Considering I’m likely the one with more experience on this sort of thing, it was my fault this run nearly got us both killed. I don’t even want to think about what lies in the ruins out in the desert.” He raised his hand and held her cheek in his palm. “You almost died trying to protect me and I don’t want to risk that happening again. I say we hand this in, receive our payment and be done with this job altogether.”

“Yeah…alright...” Maera sighed and held his hand in hers. She did not realize it until that moment, but looking at their hands together, it surprised Maera how much smaller hers was compared to his. She also noticed dried blood, both on his hand and on his collar.

Seeing that stung her. 

_ ‘This was your fault…’ _

“I’m sorry too… “

“For what?” Jespar gave her a curious glance.

“I should’ve been more aware of what was happening to me. You did check to see if I was alright - numerous times - and I just brushed it off.” Maera felt a tightness in her chest. “I was reckless,” she added shakily.

“Eh..” Jespar gave her a shrug. “Neither of us realized how dire the situation was until it was almost too late. Shit happens…not every job will go smoothly. Fortunately for us and by some weird twist of fate, we got out alright. Isn’t that what matters at the end of the day?”

“I guess…” Maera still felt guilty. In her mind, Jespar was being too patient and kind with her. Even if the ruins did not affect her, it was still foolish of her to press them onwards in such unknown territory when she was becoming ill. It was an unnecessary risk that she decided to take, and she almost paid for it with  _ both _ their lives. She closed her eyes, and cast her head down, covering her mouth with her hands to prevent herself from tearing up.

“Hey, hey…" She could feel Jespar reaching for her. "Don’t beat yourself up over it," he sighed soothingly, pulling her hands away from her face. With his fingers, he raised her chin up to look back at him. “We’re alive. We’re okay."

_ ‘That doesn't change the fact that I almost got us killed in the first place…’ _

Jespar pulled his hand away from hers and held her face in his palms. He stared at her empathetically. “Look. If it'll help you feel better, just invite me over to dinner once in a while after you get settled into your new home, and I’ll call it even. Okay?” Maera gazed at him silently. She was still unconvinced, but did not want to argue with him. 

After a moment, she nodded, sniffling.

“Alright.”

“Good. Let’s get out of here.”

\---

After over an hour, they finally exited the ruins.

Observing them at a distance, Aisa smiled, watching the couple make their way back to the Tavern.

“Well…”

A voice spoke from behind her.

“This is the first time in eons that I’ve seen you interfere directly.”

Aisa ignored her remark.

“It’s surprising… unusual.”

“I’ve got an odd feeling about this one…” Aisa looked back at her with a smile. “I’m curious to see where her thread leads.”

The woman standing before her returned her smile. 

“As am I.”


	23. Glimpse

“Mysir?”

Underneath a dim magelight, Maera looked up from her book. The old innkeeper sounded as though she was just outside Jespar’s room next door.

“My son has informed me that you two came in looking rather worn out from your excursion,” she explained. “He mentioned you appeared to have bled and may be injured? I know a little bit of healing magic that can help you.”

Curious, Maera peered through the cracks in the wooden wall separating their rooms. She watched as Jespar stepped into view and opened the door.

“Good evening, mydame,” Jespar answered, with a courteous bow. “I appreciate the concern, but as you can see, I’m quite alright. My companion and I did encounter some trouble on our little adventure, but she was able to patch me up just fine.”

“Ah! That’s a relief to hear!” the old woman sighed in relief, resting her hand on her chest. “I would hate to have a patron of ours dying in one of our beds. Although...” She then gave a scrutinizing look at Jespar’s tunic. “It appears your clothes could use a bit of cleaning. I know a spell or two that can get the blood stains out of your collar if you’d like me to take them for the night? I can have them ready for you by morning. Complimentary, of course.”

“Oh!” Jespar looked down at the dried blood. “Right. Give me a moment.”

“Yes, of course.” The old woman closed the door to give him some privacy.

“Thank you.”

_ ‘Is he going to?’ _

Maera simply stared as Jespar started stripping himself of his gear.

_ ‘He is.’ _

As though he was in the same room as her, Maera covered her face with her book, feeling her cheeks flush and her skin become warm and tingly.

_ ‘No, don’t look. It’s not right.’ _

She heard the gambeson being tossed onto the table, followed by a ruffling of cloth.

_ ‘Okay… maybe a little peek…’ _

Taking in a deep breath Maera lowered her book... 

… just enough to get a  _ good _ look.

_ ‘Oh…’ _

Maera bit her lower lip.

_ ‘Oh my…’ _

Emptying the pockets of his leather armor as it lay on the table, Jespar had undressed down to his trousers, with his back towards her. Observing him in the warm, subtle candlelight, Maera stared at his gorgeously sculpted upper body, smattered with scars here and there. She watched as he opened the door ajar to hand off his clothes to the innkeep, turning around upon locking it to return to his bed. As he faced his room, Maera also took note of the featherings of fine pale hair on his torso and all over his forearms.

_ ‘Stop looking.’  _ Someone warned.

_ ‘He’s going to catch you.’ _ Another added.

_ ‘Right… I should stop.’ _

Fearful Jespar might catch her spying on him, Maera fell back on her own bed and covered her face with her book, sucking in her lips to prevent herself from uttering a sound. She always wondered what he looked like underneath all that blue and leather. 

Now that she did...

_ 'This is not good… after what happened, you need to pull back, not push forward…' _

_ ‘You’re never going to get him out of your head now...' _

_ ‘I wonder what he looks like without his-’ _

“Like what you see?” Jespar’s smug voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

Maera kept her mouth shut.

“Don’t think I didn’t catch you staring. I could see you through the cracks in the walls.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Maera muttered with an embarrassed whine, her face still covered by her book. “Wait a minute…” She lowered the tome in her hands, staring up at the ceiling as something occurred to her. “If you saw me looking at you…”

“Oh! So you admit to having a look at me?” Jespar teased.

“Yes! Fine. I did!” Maera huffed, slamming her book onto her lap. She could feel her cheeks burning hot. “Does that…” she hesitated, her voice becoming softer. “Does that mean you’ve seen me undressed too?

_ ‘Did he see my…?’ _

“My lady, you wound me,” Jespar replied with a mocking sigh. “I am the perfect gentleman and would never dream of committing such indecency towards you.”

Maera snorted. “Uh huh.”

A moment of silence passed between them.

“You didn’t answer the question,” Jespar reminded her with a melodic hum.

“Jespar...”

“Come on, you can tell me.”

Maera turned her head as though to face him, part of her wishing the wall was not there while another was grateful that it was. She wondered why Jespar was coaxing her for an answer, given their talk under the stars back in Ark. While she was aware that they did indeed find one another attractive, Maera still remembers him saying that he was not willing to act on his attraction. She thought for several moments, wondering what to say.

“Maera?”

“Why do you want an answer you already know?” Maera asked gently in response.

Jespar chuckled. “I…” he trailed off.

Maera waited patiently.

"I dont know…"

Maera raised a hand to touch the wall, her fingers lightly stroking the grain of the wood. Part of her felt that prolonging this conversation was unwise. After what they went through, Maera was beginning to think that perhaps Jespar was onto something - that getting too close to one another was not a good idea. While Jespar had his own reasons, Maera on the other hand was starting to worry that her growing attachment to the older mercenary was priming her for all kinds of turmoil.

Maera still believes it was her fault they were almost killed, after all.

At the same time, another part of her deep down wanted to see this through, wherever it may go. Something within her tingled and burned. Something familiar. Maera could not help but wonder what Jespar was thinking right now. Was he mulling over another response? Or was he second-guessing his decision to tease her? Maera bit her lips, pondering what to say in return. She allowed a couple more moments of silence to pass, either to wait for him to speak again or for the awkward air to remain for just  _ a little _ longer.

_ 'Jespar wants to play? Fine. I'll play.' _

“I did,” Maera spoke, her voice low, soft and - she dared for the first time since they had met -  _ sultry _ . “Very much so.”

A tiny cinder within her reignited.

How many moons has it been?

Life in Ostian seemed like so long ago.

It was very subtle, but Maera could hear Jespar take in a sharp breath at her words. Closing her book, she reached above her and set it down on the bedside drawer nearby. She then turned to lay on her side and shifted closer to the wall, as though to fully face him.

"Pity I won't get to  _ fully _ appreciate such an exquisite sight," she purred low with a sigh.

On the other side, Maera picked up the sounds of Jespar stifling that all too familiar shudder, shifting around on the covers of his bed. She smirked.

"But, I suppose I can make do with the momentary glimpse I was blessed enough to witness."

"Maera…" Jespar moaned. She could hear the shuffling of his hands stroking his skin, then cloth...

...his trousers.

"Good night, Jespar," she murmured.

As she dismissed her magelight with a flick of her wrist, Maera heard him release another shuddering sigh. She bit her lips again.

"Sweat dreams."


	24. Ache

“Alright, here we are.”

Maera glanced at Jespar as they stood in front of the door -  _ her _ door. 

They returned to Ark shortly after midday. The moment Jespar received their payment from his client, they split the coin and made their way over to the bank. There Maera spent the better part of the afternoon reading contracts and discussing terms in legalese with the teller, with Jespar observing patiently at her side. A couple mind-numbing hours later, Maera was finally allowed to complete her purchase. Forms were filled, signatures and initials were inked on dotted lines, and they were out the door by the evening.

Now there they were, standing in front of a house hidden away near the end of the Noble Quarter.

Her new home.

Looking down, Maera took the key out of her pocket and stared at it, utterly bewildered. She still could not believe it was in her hand.

Even more so that she managed to obtain the coin for it so quickly.

“Come on now, you can do it,” Jespar chuckled, padding her shoulder.

Maera gave him a deadpan stare, suppressing an embarrassed smile before putting in the key and unlocking the door. 

They walked in together.

As the evening darkness greeted them, Maera closed the door behind them and summoned a magelight, revealing only a stone floor. Curious, she set her backpack down and stepped forward. She then looked up and tossed the light upwards. The light attached itself to the ceiling and cascaded a soft glow upon them, revealing a second storey, an open attic above it, and additional spaces around them still in shadow. Maera conjured a couple more lights, and tossed them at the areas hidden in dark, revealing open hallways and additional rooms.

“Wow…”

Jespar let out a sharp whistle.

“It’s... bigger than I thought…” Maera remarked in awe, turning to look around them. Her sights landed on Jespar, who gave her an amused smirk. She blushed, immediately realizing her mistake. “Don’t comment,” she warned with a laugh.

“Sometimes I think you do that on purpose,” Jespar replied with an amused sigh, setting his own travel pack by the door.

“Anyways…” Summoning another light to accompany her, Maera began to walk around from room to room on the ground level. At the same time, Jespar remained by the entrance, examining a bulletin board hanging by the door. “My goodness…” she remarked, upon returning to him. “There is so much space... I counted two hearths so far,” she added.

"Oh yeah.” Jespar cast her a quick glance. “For a place this wide and open, you need enough heat sources to warm it up when it gets cold," he explained.

"I don’t know what I’m going to do with all this room.”

“Did you see the note over here?” Jespar asked, pointing at a piece of parchment nailed to the board. Maera looked at him curiously. “It’s from the bank.”

“What does it say?” 

“ _ Congratulations on your new home,"  _ Jespar read out loud, scanning the message. “ _ As a housewarming gift, we have provided you with a storage chest to keep your belongings…’ _ that must be it over there…" He pointed to the large chest by the door. 

"Huh...this is nice."

Jespar continued to read, “ _...and we have also taken the liberty of setting up a luxurious queen size bed on the second floor. We hope these gifts will help you settle in nicely! Sincerely, Sirlen and Friends." _

“Well, that’s awfully generous of them...” Maera walked over to him and plucked the note from the board, looking it over. As the parchment came loose, another fell. “Oh! What’s this?”

Jespar caught it before it landed on the floor, taking a quick glance at it before handing it to her. “Apparently they also offer furnishing services as well.”

“Well, that will certainly help things along,” Maera replied, scanning the pamphlet. “The prices don’t seem too bad either.”

“Mhm. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

As her lights began to fade, Maera cast another one. She then gave him a curious glance. “Want to take a look upstairs?” she asked, nodding towards the stairs.

Smiling, Jespar shrugged. “Sure.”

The second floor was smaller than the first, having a small room off to the side, and a spacious bedroom at the end. 

As mentioned in the bank's letter, a large bed was provided, covered completely in a protective linen sheet. It was set up with its head against the far wall, opposite to yet another fireplace found in the room. Walking up to it, Maera set her magelight up on the ceiling and grabbed the sheet from the top of the bed. She then pulled at it as gently and carefully as she could, folding it inwards to keep any accumulated dust contained on its outer surface. Underneath were two large pillows, pristine white cotton sheets, and a light green bed cover, wrapped around what seemed like a plush looking comforter within.

"Oh...wow…" Maera murmured. She folded the protective sheet and set it down on the ground. "This must be worth a fair bit.."

"It is quite fancy…" Jespar added. He glanced over to his side at Maera, who was unfastening her belts and leather tunic. "What are you doing?"

Maera gave him a funny look as she set her gear down on the floor and began unfastening her boots. "Trying out my new bed, of course," she replied, dressing down to her blouse and trousers. She placed her boots nearby and climbed onto the bed. Her hands and knees sunk into the plush mattress. "It's so soft," she mused, before rolling onto her back. Her body shuddered at the sheer comfort and she moaned, arching her back and outstretching her limbs. She let out a pleasureful sigh, "Ooh...it feels so good…" 

Maera heard Jespar let out a stifled cough and returned her attention to him. He was still standing by the foot of the bed, with his arms crossed and eyes focused on the magelight fixed on the ceiling. She felt a playful smirk tug the corner of her mouth. That was the look of a man who was trying not to stare.

_ ‘Don’t do it.’  _ Part of her warned.

_ ‘Do it! DO IT!’  _ Another part cried out.

"Jespar…"

_ ‘This is not a good idea…’  _ Warnings from the back of her mind.

"Yes, my lady?"

"Would you like to join me?" Maera asked softly.

_ ‘There she goes…' _

Ignoring the nagging presences in her mind, Maera turned to lounge on her side, resting her head upon her hand. "It is  _ awfully _ comfy," she murmured, patting the spot next to her. She giggled as Jespar closed his eyes, seemingly failing to suppress his smile as he bit his lower lip. Releasing a heavy sigh, he gazed down upon her.

"You're a  _ naughty little minx _ , you know that?"

_ 'He's not wrong…' _

"Why... Mysir Dal'Varek, I haven't the slightest clue what you are trying to imply?" Maera responded with a light-hearted tone, tapping her finger coyly against her cheek. "All I’m offering is a chance for you to try out my lovely new bed…” She bit her lips as she watched Jespar shake his head incredulously with a smirk. He released an amused huff, and began unclasping his belt and gambeson.

“Very well then. If you insist...”

Setting his gear down on the floor, Jespar dressed down to his shirt and trousers, kicking off his boots before climbing next to Maera on her bed. Lying down on his back, Jespar visibly attempted to relax, allowing his body to sink into the mattress. He blinked in astonishment.

“Wow…” he breathed.

“What did I tell you?” Maera smirked, watching the look of pure bliss wash over his face.

“Okay, you’re right. This feels amazing,” Jespar returned with a chuckled and a sigh. He gazed up at the ceiling, clasping his fingers together and resting his hands upon his stomach. “For a second I thought you were  _ once again  _ trying to make a pass at me,” he teased, giving her a knowing sidelong glance.

“Right…” Maera muttered in amusement, before returning to lay on back herself. “What was it you said to me last night?” she asked sarcastically. She began to speak with a dramatic flourish of her hands and poor impression of his voice, “Mysir, you  _ wound _ me. I am the perfect lady and would never dream of committing such  _ indecency _ towards you.”

Jespar snorted, “Uh huh. Don’t play innocent with me.” He shifted closer to her and poked his finger at her side, forcing a squeak out of her lips and a sudden twitch from her body. Seeing such a sensitive reaction, Jespar grinned at her mischievously and latched his hands onto her sides. He began tickling her. “You may try to hide it behind that sweet innocent lady facade,” he growled as Maera screamed gleefully, “but I’m onto you.”

“Alright, fine!  _ Fine!  _ I was!” Maera cried out in laughter and playfully shoved him back to get him to stop. As Jespar mercifully pulled away looking positively pleased with himself, she closed her eyes and placed her hand at her chest, half-sighing and half-laughing as she attempted to steady her breath. “I… I’m sorry…”

“Mhm.”

“I… I guess old habits die hard.” 

A pause.

“What do you mean by that?” Jespar asked her.

Maera snapped her eyes open and instantly covered her mouth.

_ ‘Why did I just say that?’ _

All of a sudden, Maera felt her skin burn with embarrassment. Nervously glancing at Jespar, she felt a lump in her throat upon seeing him staring back at her, confused by her remark. As she struggled to think of what to say in response, Maera turned her head away, afraid of looking at him in the eyes. After a time, she felt him shift his weight on the bed, and an uncomfortable silence form between them. 

Maera bit her lips. The others in her mind scrambled.

_ ‘Do I tell him?’ _

_ ‘Do you want him to know?’ _

_ ‘Are you ashamed of who you were?’ _

_ ‘Shouldn’t she be?’ _

_ ‘What would he think of me?’ _

“Jespar… I…” As soon as Maera began to speak, she paused. Jespar began brushing her shoulder tenderly with his fingers, as though sensing her anxiety. Slowly returning her sights upon him, she found Jespar lying down on his back once again, his eyes gazing up towards the ceiling.

“You know…” Jespar murmured softly, as though to interrupt the disquiet. ”I don’t remember the last time I found myself in such a comfortable bed.” He sounded tired, and a little sad. His gaze followed the magelight above them as it floated and bobbed slowly in the air. “It feels...nice…“ 

Maera felt a warm tug in her chest, grateful that Jespar was able to pick up on her discomfort and change the subject. With a smile, she joined him and looked upon the little orb of light. She pondered for a moment before casting him a sidelong glance. “Do you…” Maera hesitated.

_ ‘Dare I ask…?’ _

“Do you...like it here?” Maera asked in a small whisper. 

Jespar gazed back at her contemplatively. Moving his hand from her shoulder, he stroked her cheek lightly with his finger. His eyes peered into hers as though looking for an answer himself.

“Maera… I…”

She gazed back into his eyes, searching for an answer as well.

“I do… I really do…”

_ ‘Then stay…’ _ Maera’s mind immediately responded. ‘ _ Stay with me…’  _ she wanted to say. She breathed in deeply, hesitating as the words remained at the tip of her tongue

_ ‘No… you need to stop' _ A presence urged her from within.

_ 'You’ve gone too far already… Remember what happened,’  _ another reminded her firmly,  _ 'Do you really want to risk it?' _

_ ‘Just...stop…’ _

Maera pulled her sights away from him, and sighed. Above them, her magelight flickered weakly and faded, leaving them with only the dim moonlight filtering in from the window next to her. Slowly, Maera raised her hand to cast another. As the light began to form in her palm, it was snuffed out as Jespar reached for her hand, closing it gently within his own. Maera held her breath.

“Jespar?”

For a few moments, the older mercenary did not respond and silence passed between them. As Jespar pulled her hand towards him, Maera suddenly felt her heart begin to race. He held her hand tenderly against his lips, feathering kisses on her knuckles one by one. Maera gripped the bedcover underneath them with her other hand, her legs reflexibly tightening together as she suddenly felt warm in-between them.

“Jespar…” 

“What do you want, Maera?” he sighed, the warm of his breath tickling her hand. “What do you truly want from me?”

_ ‘I want to say it.’ _

_ ‘No… remember what you two talked about…’ _

_ ‘Just tell him then. He is asking you.’ _

_ ‘You know he’s not even sure himself. You both need to stop.’ _

_ ‘Please! All of you! Let me have this!' _

“Stay with me…” Maera whispered, trying so hard to stifle her voice from pleading. “Stay with me tonight…” 

Jespar did not respond and kept her hand at his lips. Weaving his fingers in slowly between hers, he tightened his grip. Maera let out a small gasp as his strength gently stretched her smaller hand apart, planting wanton images within her mind and causing her heat to radiate that tingling sensation throughout her body. Kissing the top of her hand once again, he released it and turned towards her, looming over her with his other arm reaching across. Stroking her cheek with his other hand, Jespar cast his eyes upon hers, seemingly taking his time to gaze into her as she lay still beneath him. Maera in turn stared back up at him, marveling as his beautiful blue eyes twinkled from the moonlight that trickled in.

“Please stay…” she mewled, damning away the warnings blaring at her in her mind.

Above her, Jespar gave her a soft smile. Maera just barely caught a subtle trace of sadness in his eyes before she suddenly gasped. The hand that once held hers was now stroking her, gently rubbing the side of her abdomen through her blouse. Maera arched her back in reaction to such an intimate touch, closing her eyes and letting out a shuddering sigh.

“My fair lady…” Jespar chuckled deeply above her, before lowering his head. His lips feathered her cheekbone before whispering by her ear, “you truly are quite the temptress...”

“Mhm…” Maera moaned delightfully, turning her head slightly to nuzzle her cheek against his.

“Maera… I…” Jespar tenderly returned the gesture. She felt him lowering the hand by her head to trace his fingers down her neck, before stroking her collarbone. “I want to stay with you…” He rested his forehead against hers. “I truly do…" She felt him between the fabrics that separated them and gasped. "...so badly...”

“Then stay…” Maera whimpered.

“But I…” Jespar grew quiet, trailing off.

As she felt his hands slow in his caresses, Maera reached out for him, cupping his cheeks in her hands. She opened her eyes to gaze upon his face…

Before she could truly see him, Jespar quickly pulled himself away.

"Jespar...?” 

Maera fell and quickly propped herself back up on her elbows. With a flick of her wrist, she cast a small magelight only to see Jespar’s back facing her. He sat at the foot of the bed, hastily putting his boots back on and pulling his tunic over his head .

“Jespar, wait…”

Jespar stood and picked up his gear, draping it over his arm. “Thank you for letting me stay for a little while…” He turned to face her briefly, offering a smile and a bow. “I am sorry, but I need to go...” He began to walk away.

“Jespar…” Maera shuffled off her bed and went after him, following him down the stairs with the magelight trailing behind her. As they landed at the foyer, she watched Jespar pick up his backpack and sling it over his shoulder. Just as he reached for the door, Maera’s hand grasped at his sleeve, pausing his retreat. “Hold on… what’s wrong?” 

Jespar stayed silent.

"Jespar… I... did I do something wrong?"

For a brief moment, Jespar glanced at her, his brow furrowed anxiously. “No, Maera… I… It's just…” He turned away from her. “I'm sorry...” Jespar kept his hand on the door handle, and his back towards her. “I shouldn't… I should go...”

“I don't understand...” Maera trailed off. Her heart ached as he avoided looking at her. She bit her lips, hesitating before continuing, “You said you wanted to… I mean… I thought…”

Jespar let out a heavy sigh and gave her one last look. Maera could see that sadness again in his eyes and her heart broke. “Trust me, Maera… this is for the best... ” he murmured, pulling his arm away and opening the door. “...for the both of us…”

“Jespar… I…”

“Good night, my lady…” He closed the door behind him.

Maera simply stared.

Suddenly, she felt so alone in that massive, empty house. 

_ 'Jespar…' _

Letting out shuddering breath, Maera felt her heart sink as though it plummeted to her stomach. 

_ ‘The best for both of them...he says…’  _ A presence within her scoffed.

She covered her face with her hands, only then realizing that tears were falling down her cheeks. 

_ ‘Doesn’t she at least get a say in that too?’  _ Another mused.

_ 'All of you… please… just stop.' _

Pulling the bolt across to lock the door, Maera sighed and closed her eyes, resting her forehead upon it. She covered her mouth to stifle a sob.

_ ‘We tried to warn you…’  _

As more tears began to fall, Maera turned around, feeling their presence behind her. Her magelight had faded, and was now replaced by about half a dozen tiny lights now orbiting around her 

The spirits that followed her.

They appeared when she felt herself break.

_ ‘Hopefully now, you know better…’ _

\---

“Fuck…”

Closing the door and bolting it locked behind him, Jespar turned and leaned his back against it, letting his travelling pack fall from his shoulder and tossing his gear onto the table nearby. He closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands, releasing a deep breath in an attempt to calm his pounding heart.

In that instant, Jespar's memory returned to Maera, lying before him on her bed.

_ 'What is wrong with me?' _

_ 'You did the right thing.' _

_ “Stay with me…” _ Maera had whispered to him softly.  _ “Stay with me tonight…”  _

Jespar remembered the wonderful feeling of her hand interlocked with his, the tiny sounds she made when he squeezed her palm and kissed her knuckles. 

_ “Please stay…” _

_ 'I should've stayed.' _

_ 'You had to leave.' _

He vividly recalled the stirring within him as she lay beneath him, moving into his caresses and gentle touches. She had gazed upon him with her loving green eyes as they twinkled in the feathering moonlight.

_ 'I must've hurt her so badly…' _

_ 'You shouldn't have let her tempt you to begin with.' _

The way her body basked in his embrace, craving his touch... 

It took every ounce of restraint Jespar had left to stop himself…

_ 'I just want to be with her…' _

_ "...stay…" _

_ 'No, you don't.' _

_ 'Yes, I do.' _

"I want to be with her…"

Jespar heard himself whisper out loud.

"I…"

Lowering his hands from his face, Jespar opened his eyes. He looked around his room in the Dancing Nomad and pushed himself away from the door. He pulled off his tunic, his shirt and kicked away his boots, dressing down to only his trousers. Leaving his clothes haphazardly on the floor, Jespar tossed himself onto the bed, letting out an exhausted sigh into the pillow. He then turned to lay flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

He swore.

For the first time in a very long time, Jespar suddenly felt terribly - and  _ truly -  _ lonely.

No whore will be able to comfort him tonight.

He closed his eyes.

As he found himself wanting, Jespar’s memories returned to her...

"Maera…"

… to those precious few moments he spent at her side, sharing her bed.

He remembered her smile, her laughter, her eyes...

He remembered how fast his heart pounded in his chest when he first watched her writhe so very wantonly upon the bedcovers… the blissful moans that escaped her lips as she stretched and moved her body in a way that stirred wild imaginings into his mind..

_ "Jespar…"  _ Maera's voice echoed.

_ 'If only I had stayed with you…' _

_ 'If only I just gave in like I wanted to…' _

His loins ached in arousal, stifled by his trousers.

What would have happened if he just... let go…

He imagines them scrambling to tear off each other’s clothes… grasping at one other in desperation between ardent kisses and intimate caress until they lay bare upon the sheets...

He wonders what it would have been like to feel her lips against his…to weave his fingers through her ash brown hair… to run his palms along her dark, sun-kissed skin... to pull her slender form intimately against his, heated flesh upon heated flesh...

He cursed. 

With eyes clenched shut fearful of losing his images of her, Jespar scrambled to untie and loosen the fastenings of his trousers. He lifted his hips and slipped off what remained of his clothes as fast as he could, kicking them off his feet and onto the floor.

_ 'Fuck…' _

He took himself into his hand.

He was rock hard…

…  _ throbbing _ ….

"Maera…"

_ "Jespar…"  _ He remembers her voice again, calling out for him. He imagines her saying his name as he would touch her, pleasuring her between her legs with his fingers.

He fondled himself.

Her eyes - her beautiful deep green eyes - return to the forefront of his mind, along with the way she would smile and bite her lips whenever they flirted and teased one another. He recalls the look of pure adoration she gave him when she was lying beneath him, and he could not help but imagine that very same look coupled with the idea of her lips wrapped around his cock, suckling on him.

Jespar groaned, stroking himself to the rhythm of that fantasy as it played out in his mind.

He wondered how Maera would feel, wrapped around him. He remembers when he held her hand in his, how her legs tightened together and she uttered a gasp when he  _ oh-so-gently _ squeezed her palm. She was so much smaller than him, his mind could not help but translate that to how  _ snug  _ the fit would be…  _ how wet _ … and  _ warm _ …

He imagines himself pumping himself deep within her, her legs wrapped tightly around his hips, drawing him further in...

Jespar bit his lips, tightening his grasp… increasing his pace...

_ 'By the Sun… I should've stayed with her…' _

He thought of Maera clenching around him, allowing him to pour himself completely into her. The memory of her sighing his name echoed over and over in his mind…

_ "Jespar…" _

"Ah...Maera…"

As her name escaped his lips, Jespar came.

His body shuddered and his cock twitched, spurting his ecstacy all over his hand and abdomen. As the last droplets of his orgasm landed upon his skin, Jespar sighed, giving himself a couple moments to calm his pounding heart and labored breath. He then opened his eyes and gazed upon the mess he made.

His heart ached.

_ 'Maera…' _

Jespar closed his eyes again.

One last memory played over in his mind... of her reaching out for him as he left her… turning his back on her…

He remembered the heartbreak in her eyes…

...the tears that began to fall…

_ 'What have I done…?' _


	25. Temper

“Hey… thank you,” the mage sidestepped closer to her, nudging her shoulder with hers. 

As they made their way down the stone path. Calia glanced over at Lishari. “For what?” she asked, blushing at the affectionate gesture.

“For taking me out on this walk, of course!” Lishari replied with a grateful look. “Between burying my nose in books all day and diving into dusty old ruins, this day trip to the Farmer’s Coast was a nice break in the routine. Thanks again for suggesting it.”

“Oh, yeah! No problem.” Calia smiled back. “I just figured both of us could use a change of scenery and some fresh air, given… you know… we’ve been left idling for  _ weeks _ now...”

“Well, at least the Grandmaster finally decided to go ahead with your ceremony. It wouldn’t have been fair to make you wait while they continued to search for our missing Prophetess.” Lishari reminded her. “You’re finally a Keeper now. Isn’t that what you’ve worked so hard towards?”

“Yeah… I suppose you’re right.” As they approached the area’s Myrad Tower, Calia cast her eyes up, staring ponderously at the clear blue sky. “Still...” she thought out loud, “I wonder what happened to her… both her and that mercenary…?”

Lishari shrugged. “No idea… maybe they eloped?”

A loud explosion echoed from the distance.

“What was that?” Calia breathed, turning towards the sea. “It sounds like it came from the beach.”

Lishari glanced at her, sharing her look of confusion. Without saying a word, the mage tapped the Keeper on the shoulder, beckoning her to follow before running off herself.

They dashed past the worried looking Myrad Keeper and followed the Guard that had already run ahead to the cliff to investigate. As they joined him at the edge overlooking the coast, Lishari and Calia cast their eyes down at the beach, searching for the source of the commotion.

“Over there!” the guard called out. He pointed them towards an abandoned lighthouse. “Mages!”

The women watched from afar as two mages battled at the top of the tower, with one tossing lighting and fire at the other’s shields. 

“Hang on a second…” Lishari muttered.

Calia looked at her. “What is it?” she asked.

The mage was squinting at the pair down below.

“I think that’s… oh shit!” Lishari cried out. “Calia! That’s Maera down there!”

Calia’s eyes widened in shock before snapping back towards the lighthouse. Lishari was right. Maera was down there, warding off the attacks of the other mage.

Lishari turned to the guard. “Hey! What is the fastest way down there?”

“We need to help our friend,” Calia added, emphasizing their desperation.

The guard stepped back in alarm, glancing back and forth between the two women. “I… I’m afraid there is no fast way down there, mydames,” he stammered, “You’d have to double back up the path here and head to Borek’s Farm before you can make your way down to the shore…”

“Shit…” Lishari swore. “What should we do?” she asked, looking at Calia, “We need to help her!” 

The Keeper’s brow furrowed, unsure of what to do herself.

The Myrad howled from the tower.

The three looked at one another and hurried back. 

Once the guard and two women explained the situation to the Myrad Keeper, the young man flew both women down to the Prophetess, landing the winged beast just down the shore from the lighthouse. Calia and Lishari hopped off and ran over as fast as they could. Just as they approached the ramp leading up to the entrance, the ground beneath them shook. 

At the same time, an explosion roared above them, followed instantly by an agonized scream. They looked up to see the other mage falling from the top of the tower. Before they had a chance to react, she landed hard on the ground nearby, her death signaled by a very loud  _ crack _ .

“What the fuck?!” Lishari cried out. The mage’s body had landed just a couple feet from her. Her robes and skin were singed, and the hair was completely scorched off. The neck had been broken in two by the impact of the fall and the head simply lolled around, still attached to the torso by flesh. 

Grimacing at the sight, the pair diverted her attention back up at the tower. 

“Maera?!” Lishari called out to her, “Are you okay up there?” 

From the top of the tower, Maera was gazing down at them, her breathing visibly labored as she appeared exhausted from her fight. Calia watched as the Prophetess simply stared at them, her expression blank otherwise.

“Hey! Say something!” Lishari yelled. 

The two women watched as Maera continued to stand there, as though uncertain of what to do. After a time, she pulled away from the edge, reappearing a couple moments later walking down the steps of the lighthouse. 

“Hello Lishari, Calia,” the Prophetess calmly greeted them. She approached and walked past them, stopping at the deceased mage. She lowered herself to her knees and began searching the body. “How did you find me?” she asked. Calia and Lishari looked at one another, unsettled by Maera’s neutral demeanor.

“Well… we weren’t exactly looking for you…” Calia began slowly. “We just happened to be in the area…”

“We were just talking a walk nearby and heard the explosions,” Lishari replied plainly. “It was kind of difficult to ignore. Also...”

Maera kept her attention on the corpse before her.

“What the hell was that?” Lishari questioned, her voice raised as she gestured her hand towards the body.

Maera glanced up briefly to see where Lishari was pointing. “Oh…her?” She looked back down, resuming the search. She opened the eyelids, twisting her lips in disgust and annoyance upon finding it filled with viscous liquid. “A bounty.” 

“Okay…” Calia murmured, crossing her arms. “You do know the Order and the Mages still need you, right? Grandmaster Arantheal has been sending people out to look for you for weeks now.”

“Yeah. Although Firespark is more or less convinced that you’ve died off somewhere in the woods,” Lishari added, “He’s been spending his time trying to figure out what else we could do about the Cleansing.”

“I see,” Maera replied, her voice quiet as though she was barely paying attention to them.

Calia stepped up beside her, looking down at Maera as she examined the hands and poked at the charred fingernails. “Is this what you’ve been doing this whole time?” she questioned, “Bounty-hunting?”

“Give me one moment, please.” Maera drew a scalpel from one of her pouches. With her gloved fingers, she opened the dead mage’s mouth and jabbed the blade inside. Moments later, a loud sticky pop was heard. Maera pressed her fingers further in and pulled out a bloody tooth. 

Putting the scalpel away, she took out a tiny roll of parchment covered with detailed notes and teleportation runes. From what Calia could see, it was a submission form for the Ark City Guard. She watched as Maera dabbed the blood from the tooth onto one of the runes. As it glowed with a green light, she wrapped the tooth in the sheet and bound it tightly with a piece of string. She then scratched off one of the sigils, causing the bundle to glimmer and teleport out of sight.

Maera detached her waterskin from her belt, uncorked it with her teeth, and began rinsing the blood from her gloves.

“Sorry about that. I just needed to focus on finding something to send off to the Guard, otherwise I won't get paid.”

The two women simply stared down at her, incredulous.

“You were saying something?” Maera asked, recorking the waterskin and shaking the droplets from her gloves. She reached for something in a satchel by her hip, taking out a vial and pouring its contents in her palms. As she rubbed her hands and fingers together, Calia could smell the strong scent of alcohol.

“Right, okay,” Lishari nodded, her brow twisted in perplexion. She then swung her hands towards the top of the light house. “What the actual fuck was that?!” 

“What do you mean...?” Maera asked, looking up at her.

“What do I mean?” Lishari gawked at her. “I mean that explosion! That massive ball of fire that launched this unfortunate individual clean off the building!” she added, waving a hand at the body. “That was quite a bit of overkill we just witnessed.”

“Oh. Yeah…” Maera turned her eyes away, rubbing the back of her neck in embarrassment. “Sorry for the scare… I haven’t been able to figure out how to safely handle the elements yet. Whenever I try to use it… well...you saw.” She glanced back up at the two women. “It’s why I’ve been taking on bounties - practice.”

Lishari stared at her in utter bewilderment.

“So all this time... you’ve been away bounty-hunting?” Calia asked, repeating her question from earlier.

“Bounty-hunting, mercenary work, trying to steer away from the Order…” Maera began with a shrug, her tone light. “I’ve also been freelancing my herbalism and alchemy skills to the vendors in both the Market and Noble Quarter, since the wars in Qyra and Kilé have made it difficult for them to receive shipments,” she explained casually. “They’ve been paying me quite a fair bit to help them out.”

“I see…” Calia tilted her head at her, lips twisting as she found herself annoyed by her answer. Maera had been missing for weeks while everyone at the Temple was stressing out over her disappearance, and the Prophetess simply acted as though nothing was wrong.

“Hang on a second.” Lishari spoke up, crossing her arms. The mage arched a curious brow down at the Prophetess, “Last time anyone saw you, you were seen with that mercenary… Dal’Varek, was it?”

“Jespar… yeah..” Maera’s voice fell and she looked down at her hands resting in her lap. Calia noted a brief hint of sadness on her eyes before it vanished.

“What…” Lishari breathed, hesitating at her reaction. She flourished her fingers outwards in an unconscious gesture, as though trying to rethink her question. “What is the whole situation with that? What happened to him? Is he still around?”

“Yeah… he’s still around,” Maera replied, sighing. She looked off into the distance. “I’ve seen him on occasion...now and then around town. I haven’t spoken to him for some time though...” She bit her lips. “I… I’ve just been too busy.”

Calia and Lishari both glanced worriedly at each other. Without a word, they both agreed to drop it.

“So…” Calia leaned over to catch Maera’s attention. “Are you...good with coming back with us to the Temple?” she asked, “I know you’re scared after what happened to you during the Trial, but…”

“No, Calia. I’m not,” Maera replied tersely, rubbing one of her arms in discomfort. “I don’t think I ever will be, in fact.”

“But Maera… we still need your help,” Lishari added, stepping up beside her, opposite Calia. “As Prophetess, you are extremely vital in our effort to figure out what exactly the Cleansing is, and more importantly how to stop it.”

“Lishari, please… I… ” Maera covered her nose and mouth with her hands, rubbing the bridge of her nose visibly frustrated. “I never wanted to be…”

“Maera…“

“Come on, Maera. Please...”

“We really need your help.”

“It’s important!”

“Please! Just drop it!” Maera cried out, snapping her palms open by her head.

The corpse of the dead mage in front of them burst into flames.

Maera screamed, kicking the body away from her in a panic and shuffling back. In reaction, Lishari immediately cast her extinguishing spell upon it, snuffing out the fire. Calia simply started at the whole commotion in shock and confusion.

At their feet, Maera panted wearily, steadying her breath. “I… I’m sorry, you two,” she sighed heavily, “I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry. I lost my temper… I…” She closed her eyes, bringing her knee up to her chest, and resting her head and an elbow upon it. “I… I just can’t… please...”

“Maera…” Calia placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she trailed off. She had no idea what just happened, much less what to say. She looked up at Lishari for some kind of explanation. The grim, contemplative look on the mage’s face only worried Calia even more.

“Maera... I think you need to go see Constantine or Yuslan,” Lishari brought up. “Your magic… it’s not even a control issue… I think there might be something wrong with you…”

The Prophetess anxiously rubbed the back of her neck with her hand. “Yeah, there is…” Maera replied. She swallowed, before letting out a whimper. “I just...I don’t know…” She covered her face in her hands. “I just want to be left alone, okay? Please?”

Lishari and Calia looked at each other again.

“Please,” Maera begged, her voice quivering. “Just let it go? Don’t tell the Order or the Mages that I’m still around. I’m not in a good place right now and the last thing I want is to deal with any of them or the Cleansing.”

The two women kept their eyes on one another, both reluctantly coming to the same agreement.

“Alright, Maera. We won’t.”


	26. Knock

_ Bam.  _

They were trapped.

_ Bam.  _

Cracks began to form. Pain seared through her mind.

_ Bam. Bam.  _

To her left, the dead swung their weapons upon the glassy surface. To her right, the golem slammed its massive fists against it. The cracks grew larger.

_ Bam. Bam. Bam. _

At her feet, he gazed up at her with fear and confusion in his eyes. Blood seeped between his fingers as he attempted to put pressure on his gushing neck wound. 

_ Bam. Bam. _

Her heart pounded violently in her chest. Terror clawed at her nerves, sending chills through her veins.

_ Bam. _

Everything shattered.

\---

_ Tap. Tap. Tap. _

Maera gasped, her eyes snapping wide open. She flung herself forward.

She was home... in her bed.  _ Safe. _

It was still night.

_ Tap. Tap.  _

Someone was at the door.

_ ‘Again…’ _

Gathering her senses, Maera suddenly felt cold. She cast a small magelight and looked down, hands padding and fumbling with the sheets around her.

Frost...  _ again.  _

She cursed.

Dragging herself out of bed, Maera took off her chilled nightgown and slipped on a plush bathrobe over her body. She then made her way downstairs with the light trailing behind her. 

_ Tap. Tap. Tap. _

Upon reaching the door, she called out to the person on the other side. “Who is it?”

Maera was answered with silence.

_ ‘No surprise there.’ _

Hesitating for a moment, Maera pulled the bolt out from its bracket, keeping on the lock chain she had installed recently for additional protection. Opening the door ajar, she looked outside. The night was clear and stars filled the sky. All she could hear were distant crickets and running water from the waterway.

There was no one there.

_ ‘Like all the other times…’ _

_ ‘He could still be nearby…’ _

_ ‘You are a fool to hope.’ _

Maera called out softly, her voice weary with sleep and sadness.

“Hello?” 

She waited.

No answer.

Except…

Taking in a deep breath, Maera was able to pick up a very particular scent… a smokey familiar scent.

_ ‘Peacewood…’  _ Someone noted.

_ ‘Jespar…’ _

Maera bit her lips to deafen the gasp that almost escaped her. She felt her skin burn and ache. Her heart leapt into her throat.

_ ‘He was here… again...’ _

_ ‘But he still does not show himself.’  _ Another pointed out.

Maera felt his name at the tip of her tongue. She wanted to call out to him.

_ ‘Don’t.’ _

_ ‘Remember what he did to you.’ _

_ ‘Remember what he is doing to you.’ _

_ ‘Remind yourself that he still hasn’t returned to face you.’ _

Maera felt her eyes water and kept her mouth shut. 

_ ‘All of you… please… just stop. I know.’ _

She closed the door, and locked it behind her.

Returning to her bed, Maera grabbed the now cold damp sheets and tossed them to the floor, pulling out another set from the nearby drawer and draping them haphazardly over the mattress. She crawled back in and pulled the cover over her body, muttering a curse under her breath upon realizing that it too was lightly damp from melted frost. 

Maera ignored it. She just wanted to go back to sleep.

Instead, all she did was cry.

\---

Outside, Jespar leaned against the wall, hidden around the corner just a few feet from her door. He heard her answer his knocks, and call out into night. Hearing her voice again brought joy, sadness and regret to his heart. It tore at him.

Part of him wanted to go to her.

Part of him wanted to run away.

Instead, he just stood there, hiding...

...Like a goddamn idiot.

Upon hearing her close her door, Jespar covered his face with his hands.

It was the second time this week he tried gathering up the courage to speak with her

...and at least a dozen times since… that night…

Jespar could never follow through.

_ ‘I’m such a fucking coward…’ _


	27. Barrier

“Alright. Are you ready?”

“As ready as I can be,” Calia nodded at her, stepping back from the chaise sofa. “Hopefully you won’t need me. My healing magic is not exactly the strongest...”

With an uneasy look in her eyes, Lishari turned her attention down at the Prophetess, who was lying flat on her back beside her. The mage’s palms glowed with a soft pale light, flanking each side of Maera’s head. “How about you?” she asked worriedly, “Are you sure you want to go through with this? It might not even work.” 

Maera looked just as nervous as the other two, but gave them a defeated shrug. “I don’t think we have much of a choice, do we? It’s either we try this or I accidentally set everything on fire in my sleep,” she responded with a sigh. “I’ve been lucky I’ve only iced things over so far…”

“Alright well…” Lishari shook her head and blinked in resignation. “If this doesn’t work, you have to promise me you’ll let me bring in Firespark or Yuslan, okay?” she warned, “I know you said you only feel comfortable talking to me and Calia, but this sort of ailment might turn out to be way above my paygrade…”

Calia watched Maera’s face grow anxious at the idea, but the Prophetess took a deep breath and nodded. 

“Alright… alright, fine.”

Lishari cast one more nervous glance at Calia before returning her attention to Maera

“Okay then,” Lishari breathed, “Now… close your eyes and just…  _ try _ to relax.”

Maera closed her eyes. 

Standing as still and as quiet as possible, Calia observed Lishari begin by lulling the Prophetess to sleep, casting a soothing psionic spell. She watched as Maera’s body grew limp, and her breathing slowed. Upon confirming that Maera had fallen into a deep slumber, the mage raised her hands away from her head and began to conjure two different spells: one made of pale crimson light, and another white and crystalline. She weaved the two spells together between her palms, her fingers dancing rhythmically and meticulously as though she were knitting. The spells combined to form another. Its glow and particles reminded Calia of rose quartz. 

As the now pink light filled Lishari’s hands, she brought them back down to Maera’s head. Her fingers and wrists flexed and stretched in lyrical motions, and strands of light disappeared into the Prophetess’ skin. Calia began to notice the beads of sweat on Lishari’s troubled brow, but stopped herself from speaking up, lest she disturb the mage’s concentration.

It took Lishari about a quarter of an hour to complete the treatment. The moment the rosy glow dissipated from her palms, she let out a staggered breath, slowly pulling her hands away from Maera’s head and resting them on her lap.

“So…?” Calia began, her voice low and gentle, “How did it go?”

Lishari tossed a tired glance up at Calia before returning her attention back down to the Prophetess. She lifted a hand to move some stray hairs away from Maera’s face. “Well, for starters, I was able to put the blockers and silences in place, and have them activate whenever she’s asleep...” Lishari sighed and pulled her hand away. “But I will have to come back and reapply them, since both the mentalist and psionic spells I used to make that hybrid normally fade away with time.” 

“How often will you have to treat her?”

“From what I can guess?” Lishari clicked her tongue in thought, then shrugged. “Maybe... every other day just to be safe? It’s not the most ideal, but it’s all I can come up with on such short notice.” She then gazed back down at Maera. “As for whether or not this will work at all? Well...” Lishari bit her lips nervously. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see if things start freezing or - if we’re unlucky - combusting spontaneously around her while she’s sleeping,” she added.

“Yeah, I guess.” Calia bent over slightly to examine Maera’s face more closely. “She looks so peaceful when she’s sleeping.”

“I know. It’s promising to see, given what she felt comfortable telling us…” Lishari remarked. Her eyes became sad, and she sighed, “Poor thing… I wish I could come up with something better… but magic can only do so much...”

“She...” Calia pulled herself back up and crossed her arms, tilting her head in thought. “She definitely has … issues... “

“Yeah… both her and Dal’Varek, from where I’m standing.”

Calia nodded. “Mhm. Yeah. I think so too.” 

“Anyways…” The mage looked up at Calia. “Help me carry her to bed? I think we’re going to be here for a while.”

“Sure.”

Taking a seat next to the slumbering Prophetess, Calia pulled Maera up and draped her arms over her shoulders, hoisting her onto her back. She then stood up carefully, hooking each of her arms underneath Maera’s legs and steadying her feet before walking over to the bedroom. 

“Wow. She’s so light,” Calia remarked.

“Well, she  _ is _ tiny compared to you...” Lishari responded with an amused smile. “Anyways, let’s go.”

Upon entering the room, Lishari walked over to the bed and pulled back the covers. Then, as slowly and as carefully as she could, Calia sat herself down, allowing the mage to gently ease Maera off of the Keeper and flat onto her back. The two women then shifted her body to lay properly on the sheets, resting her head onto her pillow, and tucking her in under the covers. 

“Okay…” Calia stood up. “Now what?”

Lishari remained seated at the foot of the bed. She looked at Maera contemplatively and looked outside the window. “Well… it is pretty late. But I don’t want us to leave her alone overnight.”

“So… you want to stay over?” 

“Both of us,” Lishari clarified, giving Calia a nervous smile. “If something happens, I don’t want to be left alone to deal with it.”

“Oh! I…” Calia swallowed, rubbing the back of her neck. “I didn’t mean... I wasn’t planning to leave you. I just..”

“I know. I’m just saying,” Lishari chuckled back, noticing the blush on Calia’s face. She reached for the Keeper’s hand. “I know what you meant.”

“I…” Calia opened her mouth to say something, but trailed off, left speechless at the contact.

“Anyways, I was just thinking,” Lishari continued, looking down thoughtfully at their hands. ”One of us will stay with her in bed, while the other takes the chair in the other room. I don't think Maera will mind if we move it in here, at least for the night.”

“Yeah… I guess that can work.”

“Good,” Lishari let go of her hand. “Come on.” 

Walking back to the other room, the two women set their eyes on the chaise. As Calia stepped towards its head, Lishari reached for her shoulder.

“Wait.”

Calia stopped and turned to look at her. “What is it?” she asked.

Lishari gazed at Calia, biting her lips. The mage looked as though she wanted to say something, but was hesitating. 

Calia swallowed, her cheeks had grown very warm at the other woman’s touch. Lishari was standing  _ very _ close to her. “Um… Is everything alright?” she asked.

Lishari blinked at her question, shaking her head slightly as though being broken out of a trance. She pulled her hand away. “Yeah… yeah. Everything’s fine. Nevermind,” she replied. “Let’s get this thing to the other room.”

Calia watched sadly as Lishari stepped over to one end of the chaise. She felt something in her chest twinge in disappointment, but she pushed it down. 

“Okay.”

\---

Morning light filled her sights.

Maera moaned, wincing as the darkness of sleep gave way. A figure entered her blurred sights, standing in front of the light.

“Hey Lishari? I think she’s waking up,” Calia spoke softly.

Glancing blearily around her, Maera concluded that she was in her bed, still wearing her clothes from the previous day. She blinked and looked around. She could make out Calia, sitting at the foot of the bed. As her vision cleared, she could see Lishari. The mage was just getting up from the chaise, placed just in front of the fireplace.

_ ‘They probably moved it from the other room…’ _

“Hey girl…” Lishari murmured gently, walking over and taking a seat right beside her. Maera sat still as the mage placed her hand on her forehead. “How’re you feeling?” she asked as a subtle pale light glowed from her palm.

“I…” Maera paused. She wondered that herself. 

_ ‘How do I feel?’ _

Casting her eyes down, Maera took a glance at her bed.

Nothing was frozen. Nothing had burned.

No magic was released during the night.

_ 'That's good...right?'  _ one of them spoke.

_ ‘No nightmares...’ _

_ ‘No dreams…’ _

_ 'That can happen, right? It's not necessarily a bad thing?'  _ another pondered.

No one was certain.

Maera was not sure how to feel.

She felt… nothing.

“Okay, I guess...?” Maera answered, her voice quiet. “I don’t feel… that much different from yesterday...”

Lishari visibly relaxed, releasing a sigh. “Well… you seem alright. The wards are still in place, so they must’ve worked.” The light faded and she withdrew her hand. “Now, remember, they will wear off after a while. So just to be safe, I’ll come by once every other day to check up on them. Is that alright with you?”

Maera looked up at Lishari and nodded. “Oh.. yeah. Yeah, that’s fine...” she replied, rubbing away the weariness in one of her eyes with the ball of her palm. “Thanks for the help, by the way.”

“No problem.” Lishari stood up and lifted her arms, arching her back to stretch out the sleep. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I could go for some breakfast.” After a yawn and a sigh, she turned to look at the other women. “I’m thinking of heading to the Fat Leoran. Are either of you interested? My treat.”

Calia - who had been quiet the entire time - turned her attention away from Maera to glance at Lishari. “Yeah, sure, I’ll go,” she replied with a nod.

“Okay, that’s two.” Lishari smiled and looked at Maera. “How about you?” she asked.

Maera cast a glance between both women. A small part of her wanted to go, but deep down, another part of her just wanted to go back to bed. While her sleep had been undisturbed throughout the night, her body still felt weary and it took her quite a bit of effort to stop herself from lying back down.

_ 'I just want to sleep.' _

“I think I’ll pass, thanks,” she finally answered. “I think I’m going to stay in bed just a little while longer.”

“Are you sure?” Calia asked. 

Maera could see the concern in her eyes and nodded. “Yeah. I’m not that hungry.”

The Keeper looked up Lishari. They exchanged a look before the mage simply shrugged. “Well, okay then. If you change your mind, you know where you can find us.”

“Alright. Thank you.” Maera forced herself to smile, albeit weakly. Looking away, she shuffled herself out of bed and stood up. “I’ll walk you two out.”

The three of them made their way downstairs in silence. As they approached the door, Maera caught Calia glancing at her a number of times. The Keeper looked as though she wanted to say something, but could not find the words. Maera found herself relieved at the thought. 

As the two women stepped out through the door, Lishari turned to her. “Oh! Before I forget,” she started suddenly, “if you notice anything…  _ off _ … whether it’s your magic or anything, you’ll let me know, okay?”

“I will, Lishari,” Maera replied, forcing another smile, “Thank you.”

“And you’re sure you don’t want to join us?” Calia asked one more time.

“I’m sure.”

The two women looked at one another. Lishari let out a sigh.

“Well, alright then. We’ll see you later, I guess.” With a nod, Lishari turned and walked away.

As she was about to follow the mage’s lead, Calia paused and looked back at Maera, her brow still knitted with worry. “Are… are you sure you’re okay?” she asked gently.

“Yeah,” Maera replied with a nod. “I’m fine.”

_ 'I don't think you are…'  _ someone spoke up.

Calia did not look convinced either.

_ ‘Please don’t ask anymore questions. I don’t have any answers.’ _

“Well, alright then. Talk to you later.”

“Goodbye.”


	28. Beast

It was raining that night in the Heartland.

Sheltered by her dark green hooded cloak, Maera was out on a reagent run, trying to keep herself busy.

It has been two weeks since Lishari began treating her. Every other day, she would come by, check on the wards placed in Maera’s mind, and reapply them should some of them appear to falter. Two weeks of undisturbed sleep… dreamless sleep...

...and feeling nothing.

_ 'Just need to keep busy…' _

Maera was trapping moonglow moths and fireflies for one of the alchemists in Ark. Apparently, they had received a sudden request for the creatures from overseas, and promised to pay  _ triple  _ their usual price if the younger woman could deliver on short notice. Given the amount of coin they were willing to offer, Maera could not help but step up to the task.

So, there she was, out and about in the middle of the drizzling night, catching bugs.

Observing them in the jar that contained them, Maera had always wondered where these insects came from, specifically the moths. Back in Ostian, she remembers grounding their wings to dust and mixing them in with a blend of bitterleaf and green tea. She would then steep the mix in hot water, and serve it to herself and the others she worked with. It was called  _ moon tea _ , if she recalled Laches’ notes correctly. It was one of the old woman’s more medicinal recipes, meant to be ingested primarily by the women as a  _ preventative aid _ soon after their… day-to-day business. It tasted awful, as the powdered wings would make the tea extra bitter, but not only did it get the job done, it also provided a boost to the immune system. This helped and protected  _ all  _ the workers immensely if one of their clients turned out to be… not as forthcoming about their health as they claimed to be. While the others would sweeten their teas with honey, sugars or fruit syrups to alter the taste, Maera herself simply got used to it. Years of having to drink it so frequently has numbed her tongue to its sharp unpleasant taste.

Thinking back on Ostian, something suddenly occurred to Maera...

_ ‘When was the last time I-’ _

Blood splattered on her face.

_ ‘What was that?!’  _ The spirits in her mind panicked at once.

Agony pierced into her, shooting through her body in an instant. 

_ ‘She’s hit!’  _ One cried.

Glass shattered nearby. The moths and fireflies disappeared into the rain.

Maera felt her adrenaline spiking. Her heart throbbed violently in panic. She darted her gaze around her in the darkness, looking for any signs of her assailant.

Or assailants.

Her left shoulder was struck first and she had stumbled back. Reaching up with her other hand, she could feel the shaft of an arrow. She could not tell whether its head had pierced through, only that it was sharp and it  _ hurt _ . She could feel her blood - warm and sticky - as it stained her fingers.

Another one. From the front again. Right thigh. She screamed and fell to her side, her pain increased with the impact. 

_ ‘Where are they coming from?’ _ One screamed angrily.

What was she thinking? Going out so late at night in the damn rain? She was smarter than this.

_ ‘You needed to keep busy.’ _

_ ‘You were careless.’ _

_ ‘Stupid idea.’ _

“She’s down,” she heard someone speak from afar. A woman. “Find her.” She had time. She heard them approach in the darkness. She counted three - no,  _ four _ \- pairs of distant steps in the brush. “Let’s see what she's got.” Bandits. 

_ ‘Of course they are.’ _

Maera could feel her blood pool beneath her. Her heart beating in terror so loudly it began to deafen the sounds around her. She had to focus and act,  _ fast _ . She began crawling away, praying that her ears were guiding her away from them.

“Are you sure you got her? I cannot see her.”

“Keep looking.”

Despite the searing pain coursing through her veins, Maera managed to find a tree in the dark. She dragged herself to lean up against it, positioning it between her at her attackers. As she heard them arguing in their search for her, she tried to remain as silent as possible. She again reached up to inspect the arrow in her shoulder. It had lodged itself deeper in her struggle over. She suspected the one in her thigh was no better condition.

Maera thought to break or pull either or both out, but she had never done such a grueling task before. She could injure herself further and she was not even sure she could given the clothes she wore would likely add unwanted resistance.

Healing magic was out of the question. Its light would instantly give away her position in the night.

She was fucked.

Reaching into a pouch at her side, she fumbled for one of the health potions she had brought with her. She tore the stopper out with her teeth and down the concoction in an instant, ignoring the aching after effect it left in her head. The potion will soothe her pain temporarily, but she was still bleeding out. 

What was she going to do? 

_ ‘Fire? Lightning?’ _

_ ‘It’s still raining, everything is soaked. Lightning is a stupid idea.’  _ One scolded her.

_ ‘Fire? With your utter lack of control? Either you’ll just give yourself away, or burn this whole forest down!'  _ another yelled out.

_ ‘...and me along with it...’  _ she thought to herself grimly

_ ‘What about frost? Earth?’ _

_ ‘Too risky. It’s too dark. She can barely see where they are.' _

_ ‘It would be no better than the other two. If she lets any of that out, she won’t be able to stop it until she's completely spent. Then she’ll be truly done for...’ _

_ ‘All of you, be quiet. I’m trying to think…’ _

What was she going to do? What was she going to do? Her mind screamed.

A raven called from afar.

_ ‘You know what you can do…’  _ An unfamiliar voice whispered in her mind.

Her blood continued to pool around her.

_ ‘You’ve read the tomes. You’ve acquired the memories.’ _

_ ‘But…’ _

_ ‘You have allies that can save you.’ _

Maera knew what the voice was suggesting.

“That magic is forbidden,” she whispered fearfully.

_ ‘No magic is forbidden.’ _

“Did you guys hear something?”

Maera covered her mouth with her bloodied hand.

_ ‘I’ve read that it can destroy you,’  _ she thought back.

_ ‘They can…’ _

“Hey, I found some blood.”

“Then follow it, you idiots.”

_ ‘But only if you let them. _ **_’_ **

\---

Through the eyes of the raven, Aisa watched as Maera began to counter.

The young woman turned her gaze to her side, careful to keep herself hidden as the bandits followed her trail. She singled the one armed with a warhammer, and with a flick of her wrist, casted fear into his mind. The burly man yelled in terror, fooled by the monstrous illusions that cascaded over his companions. He began swinging his hammer wildly at them. Striking one to the ground and knocking the other back. 

_ ‘Smart girl. Went for the brute.’ _

Maera unleashed another spell. In the middle of the brush, a portal of dark magic opened in the clearing. Prowling out was a beast of flame, fangs bared and snarling. The wolf charged towards the bandits, passing the one wielding the warhammer as he had gone to attack the archer. As it leapt through the rain-sodden brush, it scorched its path, leaving behind charred ground and glowing embers in its wake. The beast pounced upon the one left winded on the ground. Their screams instantly silenced as their throat was ripped out with the wolf’s maw.

_ ‘Impressive.’ _

Aisa watched as the woman - the archer - had just shot down her frenzied comrade, hitting him square between the eyes. The bandit turned her sights on the wolf, staring in horror as it just disemboweled the comrade that had been previously knocked away. She shot the beast in retaliation, only to anger it as the arrow burnt off its hide. 

It charged after her.

The archer panicked, swearing and shooting as many arrows as she could. But they all dissolved into the ash as they hit. The wolf pounced her, knocking her to the ground. Its jaw clenched around the arm that held her bow and the beast broke it instantly, bringing out a blood-curdling scream.

Then, its ears perked up. The wolf let her go and it turned to look behind it.

_ ‘What is this?’ _

Stepping away, the wolf left the bandit writhing, bleeding and crying into the ground.

It padded over to Maera as the young woman had just managed to catch up. She collapsed to her knees in pain, her injuries making it increasingly difficult to move. 

The beast approached her and Maera sat still, as though uncertain of how it was going to respond to her. She relaxed as it nuzzled her face with a whine, its flames harmless if not comforting to her. As Maera pet its head, the wolf sniffed at her worriedly, inspecting her injuries. Its nose feathered the arrow in her thigh and burned it away without harming her. Every part from the tail to the tip dissipated into nothing, and Maera gasped out loud in relief. She instantly cast a healing spell to close the wound, and the wolf did the same to the arrow in her shoulder, allowing her to repeat the process.

_ ‘That is...unexpected.’ _

“Well,” Maera breathed, “aren’t you a good boy?” She stroked its back and it whined pleasantly in response. She embraced the wolf, “Yeah...Good boy, thank you.”

With a bark, the wolf dissipated, leaving Maera alone in the brush.

Before her, the remaining bandit still remained, bleeding out on the ground. Her cries had been reduced to whimpers as she pathetically cradled her broken arm.

Now fully recovered, Maera stood up and stepped forward.

_ ‘What will you do, child?’ _

Maera loomed over her, watching the woman curiously as she trembled in agony. Her face blank, Maera’s eyes began to glow with a white light.

“You...you goddamn witch,” the bandit hissed in pain, “you...fucking bi-” 

Maera punched the woman square in the jaw, knocking her back down. Without uttering a word, she descended upon her, straddling the bandit’s chest. Maera’s hands glowed with bright, blood red light.

“What...Wait...no-” the bandit cried, her voice reduced to choking as Maera snapped her hands around her neck.

“Shut up,” Maera growled, her voice low yet seething with vengeful fury. “Just….shut up.”

_ ‘...my...my… dear child.’ _

Aisa watched as Maera strangled the bandit to death. She drained the woman’s life force slowly, clutching and digging her nails into flesh so hard she drew more blood. 

The bandit died slowly...and painfully.

_ ‘What dangerous waters, you tread.’ _

When the body beneath her went limp, Maera released her grip and rose to her feet. Brushing herself off, she stepped over the corpse and began to walk away.

“Bastards...”

Moments later, Maera stumbled forward.

Aisa watched as the young woman steadied herself on a nearby tree. She grasped her head, rubbing her temple with her hands. Her body began to tremble. 

She threw up.

“Ugh… aahh!”

_ ‘The adrenaline and terror is finally leaving her.’ _

Maera was exhausted.

She collapsed.

_ ‘Well…‘ _

Out cold.

_ ‘I suppose I shouldn't let her die out here.’ _


	29. Witch

The heat soothed her skin the moment she entered. 

The sounds of dancing patrons, bards, and clanking tankards filled the air. She cast her eye across the tavern, and found the young Aeterna woman sitting at a corner table furthest from the noise. The girl was nodding off with her head resting on the wall. She did not even notice Aisa approaching her.

"Here you are, child." 

"Huh? Wha-?" Esme stirred, her eyes fluttering open. Aisa set the book down in front of her.

"The passenger log of the Morning Dew, as you requested," Aisa offered. “I apologize for the delay. There were some… minor issues that needed to be addressed."

"Oh! You actually managed to find it!” Esme’s eyes lit up at the sight of the tome. She sat up straight and hurried to open the cover, flipping through the weather-worn pages. "Thank you so much!" 

"Hmm."

"Here.” Esme reached into her pockets and took out a handful of coins, counting them quickly from her palm. “Take this payment for your troubles!” She passed the pennies to Aisa with a bright smile. “Again, thank you so very much!"

"Mhmm.” Aisa accepted the pay with a nod. “I hope you find the answers you seek." 

Leaving the girl to examine the book, Aisa made her way over to the bar. Behind it the tavernkeep was leisurely wiping down the counter with a tattered cloth. She smiled at Aisa as she approached. "I am relieved you decided to help that poor girl, Aisa,” she remarked with a sigh. “I was afraid she'd venture out on her own and get herself killed."

"It was no trouble, Astrid. I was going to be in the area anyways for other matters. Heading out to the wreckage simply required a small detour." Aisa placed the coins Esme had given her onto the counter, followed by another handful from her own satchel. "Now...” She slid the pile over to Astrid. “Do you have the supplies I requested?" she queried.

"Right here. Well, most of it, at least." Astrid pocketed a portion of the coins, and handed the remainder back. She reached down behind the counter and straightened back up, walking around the bar. In her wrinkled hand was a large leather sack. She carried it over to where Aisa stood, setting it down at her feet. "While I was able to obtain most of the items on your list, some of the rarer herbs and reagents not so much," she sighed as Aisa knelt down to inspect the contents, “The wars overseas are making imports fewer and farther between. Even our stores are looking rather sparse for some of our key ingredients. But, just in case, I’ll hold onto your list and store those items for you if they do come by."

"I understand,” Aisa nodded back at Astrid. “Thank you.”

"Anytime.”

"Mhm, yes. This will do just fine for now.” Drawing the sack closed by its string, Aisa stood up, readjusted her fur cloak and picked up her staff. She slung the supplies over her shoulder. “Well, I best be off. I'll be sure to do a once over on your wards on my way out. Can never be too careful around here."

"Especially nowadays,” Astrid murmured wearily in agreement. She tapped her hand on Aisa’s shoulders as she turned to leave. “Thank you again, my friend, for your help as always. Walk blessed."

“Hmm,” Aisa replied with a gentle grunt, walking away. “You too.” 

\---

_ 'You should've boarded that boat to Kilé.' _

Wisps of smoke meandered before him, guided away by a gentle breeze. Jespar took a slow and steady draw from his pipe and cast his sights across the water to her front door. He tried to think of another place to go, but his conscience would not let him.

_'I'd just be running away...again.'_ He told himself.

Crisp morning air chilled his damp hair, sending wakeful shivers down his back to the tips of his fingers and toes. It was a stark contrast from the swaddling warmth and comfort of the baths. For a moment he wanted to go back in, but the lighter weight of his coin purse made him decide against it. He began to make his way around.

_ 'Why did you even stay?’  _ Jespar huffed, releasing a smoke stream from his lips. The guard he passed while doing so waved it away from his face.  _ ‘Why didn’t you just sail off to Kilé like you planned to?’ _

“Excuse me, mysir,” the guard grunted in protest. “Watch yourself.”

“Huh?” Jespar paused in his steps to look back. “Oh. Sorry,” he apologized to the guard, flashing an embarrassed smile.

“Hmph,” the guard gave him an annoyed look, before looking away to resume his post. Jespar continued his walk. He took another whiff from his pipe.

_ ‘Idiot. Fucking idiot. Stranding yourself...Just for her? Why her?'  _

Crossing the stone bridge, Jespar made his way down the lane towards Maera’s home. He released the smoke through his nostrils. Another part of him that lingered in the back of his mind continued their unwelcome commentary.  _ 'She's different from the others. You felt it when you two first looked at each other. You haven't felt something like that since-' _

_ 'That's such a childish _ -’  Taking another drag, Jespar blinked and glanced down. The peaceweed was spent. He grimaced in annoyance and tucked the pipe away.  _ ‘...such a stupid reason.' _

_ 'If you think so it’s so stupid, why are you even standing here?'  _

Jespar blinked. He did not even realize he was already at her door.

He gulped.  _ ‘I shouldn’t be.’ _

_ 'Well, you did break her heart. If I was her I wouldn’t want to see your dumb face either.’ _

_ 'I…'  _ Jespar raised his hand to knock, but hesitated. He rested his palm against the wood. His fingers traced the cracks and veins.

_ 'You abandoned her, after promising to yourself that you wouldn't.' _

_ 'We were getting too close. It would've complicated things.' _

_ 'Yet that very night, you thought of her so intimately. For someone who is afraid of getting too close to others…’  _ His mind flashed the moments he last saw her, mewling with want underneath him. That night he thought of her so vividly and oh-so explicitly.  _ 'You wished you stayed.' _

_ 'Okay, I get it. I fucked up, alright?'  _ The palm he rested on the door tightened into a fist.  _ 'It wouldn't be the first time.' _

_ 'Still, the thought of not being able to fix things with Maera terrifies you.' _

Jespar unclenched his fist.

_ 'You don't want to lose her. You don't want her to be another-' _

_'Stop.'_ Jespar rested his forehead against her door. _'Please, just stop.'_

His mind persisted.  _ 'You are tired. Your body is beginning to hurt more often than not and you are not getting any younger,'  _ he reminded himself.  _ 'How much longer can you go on like this? All alone? Wandering from place to place by yourself living job to job with no real place to call home?' _

_'Why would you need a home if inns and taverns serve just as well? Besides, it's easier this way,'_ another part of him argued.

_ 'Is it really?' _

_ 'Nothing - no one - to weigh me down.' _

_ 'Is that how you see Maera? Some inconvenience?' _

_ 'No! Of course not! I…' _

Jespar closed his eyes. His mind played a memory of Maera when she first looked back at him, her gorgeous green irises glittering in the morning sunrise. Despite the filthy, tattered oversized robes that he found her in, the twigs in her hair or the bumps and scrapes on her skin, Jespar still found her so very beautiful. At first the attraction was merely one from a distance, and that was all he was up for at the start. He was, after all, one to always appreciate seeing a pretty face. But as time went on, he began to see traces of the woman deep down. Maera was someone who was kind, who listened to him and measured her response with care and consideration. She was delightful company, who made him feel both relaxed and welcome to share his thoughts, always willing to listen to what he had to say. She was definitely an experienced flirt - daring yet mindful at the same time. She was always aware of her boundaries, and though she was free and willing to test them, she knew when to step back in respect. She knew when to give and when to take.

Unlike him.

Jespar found himself wanting to see - no, experience - more of her. He opened his eyes and pulled his head back.

He missed her, desperately.

He curled his fingers and rested his knuckles against the wood.

_ 'You feel something for her - something you have not felt since… well…'  _

_ 'You barely know her...' _

_ 'Yet once again, here you are..' _

The heavy ache in his chest pulled at him. Jespar wanted to hear Maera's voice once more - her laughter and sighs - as she spoke with him and called out his name. The tears and the look of heartbreak in her eyes - when he last saw her - was burned in his mind. He wanted that memory to not just fade, but to be replaced. He wanted to see her smile again. He wanted her to look at him in adoration. He wanted to see just one more flirtatious lip bite from her petal soft lips...

_ ‘Well, here goes nothing.’  _

Jespar knocked.

He waited.

_ 'Do you even know what you are going to say to her when you see her?' _

_ 'No.' _

The longer he waited, the more Jespar tensed and willed himself to keep his feet firmly planted to the ground. He was not going to run away this time.

A moment passed.

Then, another.

Jespar swallowed. He nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He knocked again. Perhaps Maera did not hear him the first time?

A couple moments became several.

Nothing.

_ ‘Maybe she’s out today?’ _

_ ‘Or she’s stopped answering you.’ _

Jespar winced.

_ ‘I wouldn’t blame her.' _

"Excuse me, Mysir?"

"Huh?” Jespar turned and blinked at the women standing behind him. “Oh, hey. Calia, is it?" he queried and received a nod in return. Beside her was Firespark’s colleague. What was her name again? "And... Lashiri…?

"Close,” the woman replied with a raised brow. “It's Lishari." 

"Sorry."

"It's fine,” she sighed. 

"So…” Calia spoke up. “What are you doing here, Mysir Dal'Varek?"

"Please, 'Jespar' will do just fine. As for what I'm doing here, well…" Jespar trailed off. He looked at the door, rubbing the back of his neck. Should he tell them? How much do they need to know? He glanced at them. "I was…” he hesitated, not quite sure what to say. “I was just taking a walk." 

"Uh huh," Lishari remarked, deadpan.

Calia called him out. "You came to see her, didn't you?" she asked. Jespar fought the urge to cringe. He could hear the pity in her tone.

"I- yeah," Jespar sighed, his eyes downcast. "She's not home though," he added.

For a moment the two women did not respond. Jespar looked up to see them sharing a confused glance before Calia turned her attention back to him. "Are you sure? She should be," she asked.

"I knocked more than once. She hasn't answered." Jespar replied.  _ ‘Not that I blame her…’ _ he wanted to say, but stopped himself.

Lishari gave him a pat on his shoulder. The display of empathy made him curious. Does she know? Does Calia? "Hmm. Let me try," she offered, before stepping up to the door. She gave it a couple taps with her knuckles. "Maera? It's me,” she called out, “Are you there?"

They waited. Nothing.

"Maybe she's out on an errand or a job,” Jespar suggested. “Did she mention anything to either of you?"

"No, she hasn't," Calia answered.

"She  _ shouldn't _ be on any job at the moment. At least, not anything that takes her out of Ark,” Lishari added. ”Calia and I are supposed to see her this morning. She’s expecting us." 

"I don't like this," Calia thought out aloud.

"Me neither,” Lishari agreed, before knocking on the door again. “Maera!” she called, her voice raised. 

"Wait, why's that?" Jespar looked on as the two women ignored him, worry starting to surface upon both their faces. He began to sense the fear coming from them - something was wrong. 

"Maera!” Lishari yelled out through the door, banging at it with her fist. “If you can hear me, we're coming in!" She reached into her pocket, pulling out a key. With it she unlocked Maera’s door and opened it. 

"What the- you have a key to her house.” Jespar balked. ”Why do you have a key to her house?" 

"She gave me her spare," Lishari responded, her voice trailing as she called out into the house. “Maera?” 

"What-why?!" Jespar asked, his question unanswered as the mage pushed the door wide open. 

"Lishari,” Calia murmured quietly from behind them. “The chain…" 

"Yeah… I saw,” Lishari answered, before stepping in. “Maera?!”

Following Lishari and Calia into the house, Jespar noticed the chain that hung idly by the door frame. He stroked his finger down along its links, recalling that it was not installed the last time he was there.  _ ‘She must’ve had it set up for extra security, given she’s all alone.’  _ He turned his attention back to the women as they returned from their cursory search of the ground floor. "Maybe she's out after all?" he queried. 

"She should be home. I told her not to go anywhere for the next little while,” Lishari replied, her eyes cast upon the two storeys above them. 

Calia spoke up, “Let’s check upstairs.” She climbed up with Lishari at her heels. 

For a brief moment, Jespar thought to follow them but hesitated. _‘I shouldn’t be here. I should leave.’_ He rubbed the back of his neck as it started to flare up with anxiety. ’ _She wouldn’t want me here, would she?’_ He looked around the foyer. His chest ached and he could feel it tighten. He recalled that night - the look in her eyes. _‘After hurting her… and more so since...’_ The fearful part of him wanted to leave, another part wanted to be up there with the others. 

_ ‘You came to see her. You wanted to make things right. What kind of person are you if you run away?’  _ another part of him chastised him - the part he knew was right.  _ ‘She could be sick or hurt, and you want to leave now?’ _

Jespar followed. 

Calia had come down the stairs from the attic when he reached the second floor. “Nothing upstairs,” she reported with a sigh.

“So, she’s not here after all,” Lishari stated, her voice quieted with worry. The two joined her as she stood at the foot of Maera’s bed, her arms crossed in contemplation. 

Jespar noticed the bed had been left unmade. Walking over, he found a book on elementalism had been left open on the sheets, along with a quill and loose pieces of parchment covered in neat, slanted handwriting. He picked up one of the sheets, reading through her notes.  _ ‘She’s still trying to improve her control on elemental magic…’ _ __

"This is strange. It appears she did not spend the night here,” Lishari noted out loud. “Usually her room is tidied up before we arrive." She gently bit the knuckle of her forefinger and her brow furrowed. “This isn’t good," she sighed, "Maera needs to be here for me to treat her.”

“Treat her?” Jespar blinked and cast a confused stare at Lishari. “For what?” 

Lishari looked up at him, as though remembering that he was also in the room with them. He watched as her eyes shifted nervously to glance at Calia, who returned her silent question with an uncertain shrug.

“Hey! What’s going on?” Jespar asked, his chest ached even more with dread, but he pushed forward. “What happened to her?”

\---

“Wait here, child.”

With the door closed behind her, Maera watched as Laches made her way down the hall, her boots and cloak leaving a trail of water droplets on the wooden floor. Looking down, Maera realized that a puddle had formed underneath her feet as a result of her rain soaked rags. Though she was now indoors and safe from the storm outside, she could not help but shiver. Part of her wanted to venture into the home in search of warmth, but she stayed.

The Matron said to wait, so she waited.

A low rumbling grunt in the distance broke her out of her daze, followed by panting and clacks on the wooden floor.

A boy yelled out.

"Iri! Iri, wait!"

Maera heard a low, grumbling bark.

A creature with thick graying fur pounced on her.

"Eeek!" Maera squealed, landing on her bottom. Something very warm and wet began slobbering all over her face.

A boy with wild reddish-blonde hair came running down the hall.

"Iri! Down! Bad dog!" he cried, grasping onto the large canine.

Behind them, a slender dark-skinned man wearing blue eye-paint, silks and silvers came rushing in. He looked at the two children as one tried to pry the dog off the other.

"By the Sun! Get that mongrel off her, boy!" the man hissed. Maera felt warm slender fingers pry her away as the boy did the same with the dog.

"I'm sorry, Seda!" the boy whined, trying his best to calm and hold the larger animal. "She just ran off when she heard the door open! She's too fast!"

Seda gave the boy a hard stare before looking down at Maera. He quickly checked her for any fresh bumps and scratches. "Oh, you poor thing! I am so sorry!" he cooed worriedly. Maera glanced up at him as he cupped her cheeks. Maera could not help but notice his eyes were a deep blue. "Are you hurt?" he asked gently.

"I…" Maera found herself unable to speak, taken aback. She does not remember the last time a grown up fussed over her when she was hurt.

"Oh! Seda!" Laches returned from down the hall with a towel in her hands. "There you are. I-" She blinked at the four of them. "My...what happened here?" she queried, a brow raised.

"Sirius lost control of that  _ beast _ again," Seda replied with a huff, gesturing his hand towards the dog. "She came barging in here and knocked over this little one right off her feet!" Maera felt him patting her on the top of her head.

"She didn't mean to!" Sirius cried out. The dog woofed.

"Boy!" Seda wagged a ring-adorned finger at the other child, his voice snapping. "If you don't train that dog proper, I'll have her chained out in the alley!" he warned.

"But, she didn't hurt anyone!" Sirius argued back.

"My friend, please,” Laches sighed and walked over to him and Maera. She handed Seda the towel and upon unravelling it he began to dry Maera's hair. "No need to be so harsh on little Sirius," the older woman continued, "That hound is the only family he has left. Please do try to remember that and treat her like everyone under my roof." 

Seda grunted in annoyance. "Hmph. As you wish, Matron."

Maera watched as Laches gave Sirius an amused look and the boy returned it with a sheepish yet grateful smile.

"Besides," Laches hummed, "the old girl has many more winters on him, and is likely twice as clever. It's no surprise that she slipped out of his sight."

"Hah!" Seda grinned, his painted lips gleamed with silver paint. He gave Sirius a smug look. "You may have a point there."

Sirius' face pinched in embarrassment. "Hey!"

"Hmm…" Laches looked back down at Maera. Her deep rosy eyes beaming. "The girl does not seem hurt. Are you, child?"

"I...um…" Maera stuttered, feeling like an outsider. She rubbed her head and glanced down at her arms and legs. "I don't think so?"

"Then no harm done." Laches peered over at Sirius. "Come over here with Iri, my boy, and get yourselves acquainted."

Hesitant at first, Sirius slowly stepped up to Maera with Iri trailing behind him. He scratched the back of his head and looked at her with a shy smile.

"Um...hi."

"Hello."

"Tell us your name, sweetling," Seda prompted her with a light tap on her shoulder. When she looked up at him, he gave her a comforting and subtle nod towards the others.

"Mae...um.." Maera clutched the towel for comfort.

"Maeum?" Sirius tilted his head and gave her a curious look.

"Maera," she corrected herself. "It's Maera."

"Ah, Maera!" Sirius sighed with a smile. "I'm Sirius, and this is Iri," he added, petting the old dog in the head. Iri whined. "Nice to meet you." 

Maera smiled. "Nice to meet you too." 

Laches rested a palm on Sirius' shoulder. "Sirius, can you please take Maera upstairs?" she instructed with a gentle tone. "She'll have the bunk underneath yours. I have to speak with Seda."

"Yes, Matron." Sirius glanced at her and nodded towards the hall. "Come with me," he beckoned.

Maera pulled the towel tightly around her. She gazed up at Laches who simply waved her hand in the same direction.

"Go on, child," Laches murmured. "Follow him."

"Um...okay."

Maera followed Sirius and Iri as he guided them down the hall. They passed a number of rooms before turning the corner to a narrow flight of stairs

"Up here."

Upon reaching the third floor, Sirius brought them down another hallway. The walk was silent for the most part, save for Iri's audible panting. Eventually he led them to a room furnished with bunk beds, end tables and dressing closets.

"Here's the dorm I stay in with some of the other kids," he explained. He walked her over to the far corner of the room, straight to the bunk by one of the windows. "I sleep up there. This one down here will be yours."

Maera looked at the small bed before her. She gulped and bundled herself in the towel before gingerly laying her hand on the sheet. Upon feeling how soft it was, she suddenly felt the urge to cry. Did this mean she did not have to sleep on the ground outside anymore?

"I'm sorry about Iri." Sirius' nervous voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Huh? Oh." 

"Seda is right," Sirius whined, patting Iri as she nuzzled his hand for attention. "She is my dog. I should be watching her."

"It's okay." Maera smiled and lifted her hand towards Iri. The old dog sniffed her palm curious before inviting Maera to pet her. "She seems nice."

"Yeah. She is." Sirius joined Maera, running his hand gently down Iri's back. The dog whimpered in contentment. "She's always been there for me," he explained.

Maera smiled and giggled.

"Why weren't you?" he asked.

She blinked. 

Around them, the room shifted to a dark void. Iri and Sirius faded away along with the memory. Maera found herself standing on nothing, the floor taken from under her.

"What?"

"Why weren't you there for me, Maera?" Sirius called out to her, his voice still youthful as a child. It had become rife with despair and anguish. "I needed your help, but you did nothing."

"Sirius…" Maera searched futilely in the shadows. Her hands outstretched, reaching for nothing.

"You just laid there," he cried out. His voice aged to what she last remembered but was now laced with anger. "The ship’s captain stabbed me in the heart and all you did was watch as I bled to death on the deck."

"Sirius...I-" Maera felt a stifling knot in her chest. "I was tied up. I couldn't do anything!" she wailed out. "I'm sorry!"

"We always looked out for each other. We took care of one another," he reminded her, his voice shifting back to that of his younger self. Before her, the light of a soul formed from the darkness. "You were my sister, and you just let them cut me down."

"Sirius…" Maera reached out to his spirit but he simply backed away from her. She watched as his soul swirled and formed into him as she last saw him, dressed in rags, blood spilling from the stab wound in his chest. "I never wanted…"

"And now…" His voice shifted back again. "Now, you get to have this brand new life while I get to remain forgotten in the bottom of the sea." Sirius stared at her with disgust and grief. His skin was pale and gray with death. Tears welled in his eyes. "Does that make you happy, Maera? Knowing you don't have me around anymore?!"

His words clawed at her heart.

"Of course not!" Maera cried out in sorrow. She reached for him again, but her hands simply whisked through. "I…" She stared in confusion at her palms before returning her gaze to him. "I never wanted you to get hurt."

Sirius shook his head in disbelief. The tears began to stream down his cheeks. "Then why did you let them kill me, Maera? Why?"

"I…"

"Why, Maera?!" Sirius begged for an answer, "Why?!"

"I don't know!" Maera cried back. "It all happened so fast! There was nothing I could do!" She tried again to reach out for him to no avail. He simply drifted away. "Please, Sirius…" she whimpered as he turned away from her. He began to fade. "I'm sorry." 

Sirius turned to gaze sadly at her. "No, you're not," he uttered, before the darkness embraced him.

"I am... please... believe me."

\---

"Please…"

Faint, warm light flickered nearby in the darkness.

Tears welled in Maera’s eyes, trickling down to the pillow beneath her head. Curled on her side, she lifted her hands in an attempt to dry her eyes. The tiny movement stirred a cascading ache throughout her whole body, bringing to attention the stiffness in her neck, shoulders, and limbs. Groaning, she slowly opened her eyes, blinking away the tears and tension from her uneasy slumber. As her body struggled to return to wakefulness, her mind snapped to.

The voices rushed at her at once.

_ 'She's awake!' _

_ 'Do you think she can hear us now?' _

_ 'Hey, kid! Snap out of it!' _

_ 'Come on, now. You all just saw that dream. Give her a minute.' _

_ 'But she’s been out of it for so long…' _

_ 'Where are we? Can anyone see?' _

_ 'Wake up, girl.' _

"All of you, please calm down," Maera winced with a groan, shutting her eyes tight as she rubbed her temples in irritation. "I cannot hear myself think."

As the voices hushed, she remembered.

The rain. The fireflies. The moths.

The sound of shattering glass. Agony as the arrows pierced her flesh. The chilling fear as the bandits hunted her in the night.

The rushing blood. The pounding of her heart in her ears. The otherworldly beast that protected her and savaged her assailants. Her fear and fury fanning its flames.

The exhilarating rush she felt as she wrenched the life out of the one that wounded her.

A raven crowed at her.

_ 'Look around you, child.'  _ The voice from that night.

Maera opened her eyes once more.

"Where…"

This was not the Heartland.

_ 'Where am I?' _

Instead of lush green forests and open sky, Maera found herself indoors in a small cavern room, lit by the subtle warm glow of a couple nearby candlelights. Whether she was above or below ground she could not tell. The curved stone surfaces from floor to ceiling appeared to have been smoothed out by hand or magic, allowing it to be more hospitable. The bed she found herself in was a space carved into the wall of the cavern, with its flattened stone surface softened by layers of hay, furs, and worn bed sheets. The rest of the room held basic wood furnishings. A barrel beside her carried a small lit candle. A tall bookshelf near the foot of the bed held a small variety of old tomes, baubles and trinkets. Across the room was a desk with yet another candle. Beside it, all the clothes she wore that night was seated or hung on the back of a chair along with her gear.

It was then Maera realized that the only thing she was wearing was an old, oversized linen shirt. A pit formed in her stomach as she recognized that she had been stripped and redressed by whoever brought her here.

_ 'Oh no…' _

_ 'Come now, it's probably not what you think…' _

_ ‘I don’t know…’ _

_ ‘It’s probably nothing.’ _

_ 'But what if…' _

“All of you, please be quiet!” Maera hissed. She held her breath as she sat up. Panic stirred in her chest as she carefully checked herself for internal injury and other unwanted marks. After a cursory search found nothing, her fears lessened but did not quite fade away. Who had brought her here? What else have they done to her while she was unconscious? How long has she been here?

A raven called her again.

_ 'No need to fear, child,'  _ the voice whispered in her mind once more.

Maera glanced up. 

The raven was perched at the top of the bookshelf. It stared at her, with one of its eyes possessing a subtle yellow glow. It tilted its head at her before turning to point its beak at the wooden door nearby.

_ 'Come on up.' _

Pushing down her fears, Maera tossed aside the bundles of large furs that served as her blankets and climbed out of bed. The moment her feet touched the stone floor, it surprised her to find it warm and soothing, rather than chilled and bracing like the air in the room. It made her wonder where she had been taken. Approaching the chair where her clothes waited, she was pleasantly surprised to find them all neatly laundered. She began to lift the shirt to change back into her clothes when the raven squawked impatiently at her.

Maera gave it a withering look before letting out a sigh. “Please, I don't know where I am, I don’t know how long I’ve been unconscious, and I’m not going to step into the unknown wearing only this shirt.” She turned away from the bird and continued to get dressed. “Just give me a minute, okay?”

It simply trilled at her in response.

Leaving the shirt draped over the back of the chair, Maera made her way to the door. Upon opening it, the raven rushed past her head, flying up the winding set of stairs before her. Maera bit her lips nervously. Her only way out was shrouded in darkness, lit only by the candles from the room she was in. It was also considerably cooler out here, and she could hear the wind whistling in the distance.

"Hello?" she called out, her voice echoing up the spiral steps.

Only the raven responded from above, beckoning her to follow.

Staring up the darkened stairway, Maera lifted her hand with a subtle wave to summon a magelight. 

It did not form.

Maera stared at her hand in confusion and tried again.

Nothing. 

_ 'What in blazes…?' _

She tried again and again.

_ 'What is this place? Why can't I-?' _

The raven called out to her again from above.

_ 'Follow him, child. He is there to guide you.' _

Maera looked up at the shadows before her. Trepidation fought to hold her in place as more questions rose from her predicament. 

_ ‘This is not sketchy at all,’  _ one of the voices remarked.

_ ‘Could this be a trap?’  _ asked another.

_ ‘How could it be a trap? She’s been unconscious all this time.’ _

_ ‘If anyone wanted to harm her, wouldn’t they have done so by now?’ _

Forcing herself forward, Maera began to climb. The stairway was much colder than the room below. As the wind hissed and howled through gaps in the walls, she covered her head with her hood, shivering as she felt chilled to the bone. She took each step slowly and carefully, steadying herself against the inner walls of the spiral steps. Even the stone walls felt as cold as ice.

Relief came to her as she saw light at the top and the air became mild once more. Upon entering a large antechamber, Maera found the raven perched on the lip of a brazier carved into the walls. In place of flames, the brazier - and many others like it - were lit by small warm magelights, leaving a comforting ambiance in the room. Walking towards her guide, she took note of the other doors, halls and steps leading this way and that.

_ ‘This place feels like a maze…’ _

_‘I wonder who carved these paths,’_ a voice asked.

_ ‘And how…’  _ pondered another _. _

The raven greeted Maera with a tilt of his head and a soft chirp. When she approached, he flew up another, smaller set of steps into one of the nearby passages. She trailed after the bird once again and found him just as he landed on the floor by an open door. The raven stared back at her and cawed before flying in. 

As Maera drew closer to where the raven had gone, the alluring scents of warm food stirred an ache in her stomach. It made her realize how famished she was, pressing her feet forward with urgency. Upon entering the room, she found an old woman with her back facing her, sitting by a firepit in the center of the room. She sat cross-legged on a fur rug, focusing on stirring the contents of the cauldron before her. In front of the woman, the raven along with another were resting side-by-side, perched atop the arm of a lounging bench adorned with cushions and a large fur throw. Maera noticed that the right eye of both birds were aglow with the same dim golden light.

"Have a seat, child,” the old woman beckoned gently, waving her hand to the spot adjacent to her. “Supper is almost ready."

Maera hesitated, unsettled by the display of familiarity. As the ravens stared silently at her, the woman turned slightly to her left to glanced over her shoulder at Maera. Her right eye was hidden underneath an eyepatch, and her left was a piercing yellow - similar to that of the two birds. As the crone’s eye peered into her, Maera could not help but feel small.

"Sit,” she added firmly.

_ ‘She’s scary…’ _

_ ‘She doesn’t look so tough.’ _

_ ‘All of you, hush.’ _

Maera made her way over, doing as she was told.

The old woman picked up a ceramic bowl from her side, and ladled out a portion of the stew she prepared. Once Maera settled down beside her, she handed it to her, followed by a wooden spoon. 

”Eat."

"I..." Maera gazed at the bowl in her hands. The stew seemed perfectly safe and smelled deliciously of beef, carrots, mushrooms and potatoes. Despite this and the impatient grumbling of her stomach, she could not help but feel the wariness of the others over this stranger’s courtesy.

_ ‘Could it be poisoned?’  _ someone asked.

_ ‘Why would it be? It would be such a waste of food.’ _

_ ‘And poison.’ _

_ ‘You’d be surprised the lengths people would go to kill you.’ _

_ ‘Yeah… and if the old gal wanted to, the girl would be dead by now.’ _

_ ‘Please be quiet, the lot of you. It’s hard to think with all of you talking.’ _

Noting Maera’s hesitation, the old woman gave her an annoyed look as she served herself a bowl. "You have not eaten for quite some time,” she explained before repeating her command, “Eat."

Maera once again did as she was told. 

While they ate together in silence, Maera tried to think of what to say or ask. She had numerous questions swirling in her mind, but the crone’s mere presence intimidated her from uttering a word. After a time, Maera allowed her vision to wander around the dimly lit room. Her sights landed on one of the windows, partially covered by thick curtains. They wavered from the cold draft whistling in, but beyond them, Maera could see that it was pitch black outside. 

Shifting her gaze away from the window, Maera noted there was a greater variety of furnishings up here compared to the room below. In addition to the cooking area in the center surrounded by pelt rugs and seat cushions, there was a small wooden table set nearby against the wall, accompanied by a couple chairs. Of greater interest to Maera was a pair of bookcases that reached from floor to ceiling, filled with old tomes, scrolls and bundles of loose parchment. Not far from the cases was another table equipped with an extensive setup of alchemical apparatuses, some of which she barely recognized either due to age or rarity. Additional shelves both carved into the stone and made of mounted wooden planks lined the walls, most within a step or arms reach of the workstation. These carried labelled jars, small metal boxes, and ceramic containers. Of the ones she could read, she recognized the names of both common and rare herbs and reagents. 

_ ‘Another alchemist…?’ _

_ ‘Another arcanist?’ _

_ ‘Out here? Perhaps a wild mage?’ _

_ ‘Be careful, girl.’ _

A voice hissed in the back of her mind.

_ ‘A witch.’  _

"How are you feeling?" the old woman asked softly, breaking her concentration.

"Mm-” Maera swallowed the spoonful she had just taken. “Alright, I think…?" she replied, trailing off. Frankly she was uncertain of the answer herself.

"Hm. That's something, I suppose," the crone muttered. She picked up the ladle resting by the cauldron, and offered her hand. “Would you like some more stew?”

“Oh… I…” Maera glanced down, not realizing until then that she had finished the first one so quickly. Her stomach groaned again in response. Looking back up, she nodded before handing back the bowl. “Yes, please,” she replied meekly. As the woman wordlessly refilled it with another helping, Maera found herself relaxing to the woman’s presence. With another bowl in hand, she finally decided to ask. "I'm sorry but... who are you?"

“Aisa,” the old woman responded with a quick glance, before returning her attention to refilling her own bowl. "I am the one who found you unconscious in the Heartland. You were covered in blood and your own sickness after your little skirmish with the bandits."

“You...you saw that?”

“Yes, thanks to Gin and Nin over there,” Aisa replied, nodding towards the two ravens. “They help me keep an eye on you. They also guided me to you that night."

"Ah... I see," Maera muttered, eyeing the birds before glancing down at her bowl. She took a couple mouthfuls, pondering what else to ask. After several moments of silence, she spoke up. “Um…Aisa, if you don’t mind me asking,” Maera continued, trying to ignore the piercing look from the old woman’s eye. “Where am I exactly?"

"My home."

Maera stopped herself from flinching at her tone. "Which is... how far from Ark?" she asked slowly.

"Far."

"How far?"

"Deep in the northern region of the Frostcliff Mountains."

Maera blinked at her. “How…” she stuttered, her eyes widened in surprise. "How did I end up all the way out here?"

"I ported you here,” Aisa explained with a sigh, as though mildly irritated with having her meal disturbed. "After what happened that night, you fell unconscious, and lying out in the cold rain made you terribly ill. I concluded that since it was far too dangerous for you to be left out there alone, I brought you here to my home to look after you," she added. "I bathed you, healed what I could, and fed you broth and water in the brief moments you were barely conscious." She took in another morsel. "By the way, you owe me fifteen pennies. While I was able to have a tavernkeep down south clean your clothes, I also had to purchase that oversized shirt you woke up in so you had something to wear in the meantime. It's all she had spare to sell, unfortunately, so I just took it."

"Oh. I see." Maera felt another weight lift off her chest, though others still remained. Reaching into her coin pouch, she portioned out the amount owed and handed it to Aisa. "Thank you, by the way" she offered, "I am... grateful."

"Mhm."

As she watched Aisa pocket the pennies, Maera found herself thinking out loud. “So...you’ve been watching me?” she questioned.

“Yes. Since you made landfall here in Enderal,” Aisa replied casually, consuming another spoonful.

“Why?” Maera followed up instantly. The idea that someone has been spying on her disturbed her, and stirred even more questions in her head. 

Maera felt Aisa’s gaze peer into her as the crone contemplated her answer. “Listen,” she began, setting her bowl in her lap, ”when you’re an arcanist who has been around as long as I have, you make a habit of keeping track of others who are coming in and out of your area. More importantly, you do what you can to keep a discreet eye on them to determine whether or not they are friend or foe.” 

Maera stiffened, her nerves burned. “And who am I to you?” she mumbled, indignant.

As though sensing her unease, Aisa sighed. “Don’t worry, child. You have nothing to fear from me,” she added, before returning her attention to her meal. “You may be powerful, but I do not see you as a threat.”

“Oh.” Maera allowed herself to relax a bit at the old woman’s response. She did not trust Aisa yet, but she pushed aside the need to ask further questions. Instead she chose to finish her stew. Upon the last couple bites, Maera set her spoon and bowl down at her lap and waited quietly, opting to look around once again at her surroundings.

The wind outside whistled, occasionally howling against the glass. Maera began to wonder how high up the mountains they were.

"So...” 

Maera looked at Aisa as she spoke. The old woman set her bowl down, leaving the spoon inside before gazing back up at her.

“I assume you have more questions?” the crone offered.

“Oh?” Maera bit her lips. “Hmm.. well…” She thought for a moment on what to ask the older woman. ”Given you’ve been watching me, you  _ do _ know that I live fairly close to the Heartland, right? In Ark?"

“I do.”

“So… If you knew that, why did you teleport me all the way out here to your home in the mountains?” Maera questioned, “Could you not take me back to Ark?

“I could.” Aisa answered lightly, before adding an abrupt, “But I didn’t.”

Maera tensed, troubled by the crone’s response. "Why not?" she asked.

Aisa gazed at her thoughtfully once again, as though deciding on how to respond. Instead of speaking, however, she simply raised a hand and made a slow swirling gesture with her finger. As she did this, the ground began to gradually rumble beneath them, sending subtle reverberations to everything in the room. Maera watched as threads of her hair began to float and waver around her head, with bright cracks of static sparking between the strands.

Trepidation surged in her mind. The voices began to murmur in confusion.

_‘Girl...what is happening?’_ one asked.

_ ‘What’s going on?’ _

_ ‘What are you doing sitting there? Stop her!’ _

Maera felt her blood run both hot and cold, rushing a bracing sensation through her veins down to her fingertips. Looking down at her hands, her vision began to brighten, the edges shimmering with white light. Frost began to crystalize around the bowl in her hands, even though heat began to form in her palms. Once Aisa’s finger stopped, the bowl in Maera’s hands cracked, snapping into chunks as the pieces became encased in a thick, crude coat of ice. The wooden spoon that she held burst into flames.

_ "Aiie!!"  _

Shuffling back, Maera screamed, dropping the bowl from her lap and tossing the fiery utensil across the room. Before the spoon could hit anything, Aisa flicked her other wrist and caught it with a quick telekinesis spell. As the crone carried it back to them, Maera watched as her finger made yet another swirling motion, but in the opposite direction from the first. The light bordering her vision faded away, returning her sight back to normal. The ground no longer grumbled and the air around her no longer felt electrified. The bowl still remained within the ice.

“That’s why,” Aisa finally answered, staring grimly at the burning piece of wood as it slowly cracked apart before them.

“What…” Maera gasped, breathing rapidly from shock. “What did you just do to me?” she cried, whimpering and clutching her chest as her heart throbbed from panic and confusion.

Aisa simply gave her a sideways glance. "To you? Absolutely nothing.” She tossed the remains of the spoon into the fire pit. “What I did do was simply tone down some of the stronger warding spells I had to put up since I brought you here,” she explained.

"Wards?” As her breathing settled, Maera looked down at her hands. “Is that why I can't-?" Like before, she attempted to conjure another magelight to no avail. "I see."

"Hmm."

"I thought I had... I mean, my friend, she…" Maera blinked. "Wait, how long have I been here?"

"Over a week."

“A week…” Maera gasped softly, as her mind immediately went to her friends. Lishari and Calia must be terribly worried about her, given what they know. And Jespar…

_ 'Would he even care?'  _

_ ‘He has been knocking at her door at night, before running off like a coward.’ _

_ 'You two aren't even talking anymore…' _

_ 'He has been avoiding you…' _

_ ‘All of you. Please be quiet.” _

"Mhm." Aisa's voice cut past the others in her head. "The wards your friend placed on your mind wore out several days ago. I tried to reapply them, but your unstable and peculiarly intense connections to the eventualities - and to the magics therein - more or less shattered them the instant I placed them.”

“Oh.”

“It’s a shame, really. Your friend weaved a beautifully designed spell - she’s a bright one for certain," Aisa added thoughtfully. "However, while it simply blocked your mind from spontaneously manifesting the different eventualities against your will, what really ails you remains to be a problem and - as you can see…" The witch gestured to the frozen bowl. "It is… progressing," Aisa sighed, lifting the bowl curiously to examine it. "So far you've been lucky that only your connections with elemental magic have been adversely affected. If your conditions worsens...well… I do not wish to think on what unpredictable and unstable Entropic energies or Psionics will do to those around you." 

Maera swallowed the dread that bubbled in her throat, grimacing at the old woman’s words. "I see."

"Do you understand now?" Aisa asked, giving Maera a stern and piercing stare. "Do you see why you were brought here?"

Maera felt her body tense and her nerves burn as the gravity of her situation struck her at her core. She cast one look at her hands before glancing back at the old crone.

"What's wrong with me?"

\---

“How long has this been happening?” Jespar sat on the bench in Maera’s bedroom, holding his head in his hands with his elbows resting on his knees. He rubbed his temples with his thumbs, as the weight of Lishari’s words pressed down upon him and sent a burning pit to his stomach. 

“We’re not sure to be honest,” Calia answered worriedly. “A couple weeks? A month? Even she’s not sure how long her magic has been acting up in her sleep.”

“The signs appear to be worsening gradually,” Lishari added. “She’s been lucky so far, with only weak ice magic frosting her sheets.”

Jespar sat up, as a thought occurred to him. “Perhaps it’s just her struggling with elemental magic?” he reasoned. He realized as he asked the pointlessness of questioning the Nehrimese mage. “She did tell me that she has difficulty with it...” he added, his voice trailing off.

Lishari raised an eyebrow at him. “Um. No,” she responded bluntly. “Usually if an arcanist has a weak Glance into the eventualities, their casts are either barely effective or they struggle to conjure it. Period.” She sighed, resting one hand on her hip while the other rubbed the bridge of her nose. “No… whatever is happening to Maera, it’s very much specific to her. I suspect part of it is largely due to her unique aura or whatever the deal is with her being the Prophetess. The other part of the problem is - from what I can tell - whatever baggage she’s been struggling with this whole time.”

“Baggage...?” Jespar looked up at the two women. He hoped his guilt was not evident on his face.

"Well… aside from you, of course," Lishari remarked lightly, her almond eyes glinting at him. Intentional or not, Jespar could not help but feel like she just backhanded him, but said nothing.

_ 'I deserved that.' _

"I do know that she is still quite anxious over being found by the Order again," Lishari added, moving the conversation onwards. "When Calia and I last tried to convince her to come back, we upset her so much that she unintentionally burnt the corpse of a bounty she was collecting to a crisp.”

"Maera is also still upset with Arantheal over her trial," Calia recalled out loud. "She never told me what happened exactly, but I can still remember how violently she woke up from her trial, screaming and crying. I've never heard or witnessed such a drastic awakening in all my years living at the Temple. Well... until hers."

"Hm. Come to think of it, she has mentioned a couple things about that day to me as well..." Jespar sat up and crossed his arms, looking up at the ceiling as he attempted to sift through the memories. "Something about,” he paused, trying to recall her words, ”being trapped and tormented by someone who reminded her of her father, who I suspect she is not quite fond of.” Jespar then looked back on the times he spent with her, going through their conversations and interactions with one another. “I have also noticed her reminiscing here and there. Not quite discussing her past, per say - just...hinting at it. Every time she did that, however, she would immediately shy away from it. I cannot help but wonder…” At that instant, the memory of the scars on Maera's back flashed in Jespar's mind. “...why…”

The pit in his stomach suddenly became filled with a sickening dread.

_ ‘Maera…’ _

At that moment, Jespar felt his heart ache. What  _ was _ Maera’s life like before he met her? Before he found her lying unconscious in the brush, dressed in rags? Given the few pieces of the puzzle he was able to come across and what he himself has observed so far...

Jespar was afraid he was not going to like the answer.

Yet he still wanted to know. He _needed_ to know _._

He had to find her.

_ ‘I need to see her again.' _

"Well…” Lishari broke him out of his train of thought. “Whatever she's going through, one thing is certain: Without any formal training, Maera has managed to become an incredibly strong arcanist in an unbelievable short amount of time. The power I've seen her wield would take a normal arcanist decades of practice and study to achieve, and while that sounds amazing at first, I’m worried that if she is unable to keep that power under control, she has the potential to become extremely dangerous to herself and others.”

“So she’s...” Calia trailed off.

“At the moment? She’s a catastrophe waiting to happen,” Lishari stated bluntly.

“I… hmm...” Calia looked as though she wanted to ask something, but hesitated. She crossed her arms and her brow furrowed in thought. “I wonder…” she resumed, “Should we notify the Order about this? About what’s been going on with her?”

“Should we? Absolutely,” Lishari replied with a nervous laugh. “But will we? Hells no,” she added with a vigorous shake of her head. “It’d be a terrible idea.”   
  
“Why’s that?” Calia asked, “If Maera is losing control of her magic, shouldn’t we tell Aranthael or at least Firespark?” At her question, Jespar turned his attention back to Lishari, wishing to know the answer as well. 

“If we tell them about her - and that she’s gone missing - they  _ are _ going to start asking why we did not come to them sooner,” Lishari pointed out. “We’re already facing a lot of trouble if they find out we’ve been keeping her location a secret this whole time. If they also discover what’s happening to her… well…” she grimaced, before continuing, “I don’t want to find out what they’ll do to her if they decide to go after her. I also dread what they’ll do to us if they figure out we were involved in any way.” Lishari closed her eyes and massaged the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “I have a feeling Firespark chewing me out for this would be the least of my concerns.”

At her words, Calia gulped anxiously. Jespar watched as she turned her sights away from them, crossing her arms tightly as though to comfort herself. Sadness and fear began to surface upon her face. “Yeah… you’re right,” she murmured quietly, “Things would not end well... for any of us.”

Seeing the two women become distracted with their thoughts, Jespar closed his eyes and leaned over again, resting his elbows on his knees. He covered his face with his palms and exhaled as quietly as he could, trying to relieve himself of the burden on his shoulders and chest. As he shifted his hands to the sides of his face, he gazed blankly at the floor. He began to wonder exactly how much Maera has told the two women about her magic? Do they know precisely how much she is capable of? 

From what Lishari explained to him earlier, Maera was coaxed by them into sharing a fair bit of information about herself, including details regarding him and the past couple weeks. If she trusted them enough to tell them that much, has she divulged the full extent of her abilities? As far as he can guess, the two women only know about her Thaumaturgy and Elemental skills, the latter of which garnered greater concern for them. But did they know that she has been heavily developing her capabilities with Sinistra magic? With Maera struggling to keep her magic under control, there could be far more to worry about than burned bed sheets or the occasional earthquake. At the same time, revealing that she’s capable of using such magic  _ and _ potentially losing control over it could have Maera hunted down by the Order. 

Jespar was beside himself.

What should he do? Should he tell them? Or should he continue keeping Maera’s secret from them?

_‘Tell them.’_ Part of him hissed at him. _‘Tell them, and run the first chance you get. Catch the next boat out of this damned rock and never look back.’_

_‘No, stay. You have to find her. You have to make this right and help her,’_ another urged. _‘You’ve been a coward too many times for far too long. Do something right for a change.’_

His chest ached and he felt his throat tighten. The idea of being the one to end up depriving Maera of her freedom sickened him. Despite the terrifying power she wielded, he wanted to believe that she is still the kind, curious and thoughtful person that he knew. Maera also worked so hard and risked so much to make a life for herself here in Enderal. She does not deserve to be punished like those who used such nefarious power to harm and exploit the innocent, did she? Would execution even be on the table, given she’s the Prophetess? No, Aranthael still needed her. He would not risk losing her like that, right?

Jespar closed his eyes, rubbing his temples with his thumbs. Part of him was still yelling at him to find the first boat out of the country as soon as possible. It screamed at him, insisting that none of this was his problem to solve. The other continued to argue against that, urging him to stay. After all, he could not help but feel at least partially responsible for what has happened to her.

Before that night, Maera was fine.

But after…

Jespar sighed.

He had to find her. 

"So..." Jespar sighed, gazing up at both women. They turned to look back at him, "What now?"

\---

“Simply put, child,” Aisa began, eyeing the broken, frozen bowl in her hands. “You’re ill.”

“How so?” Maera murmured softly, puzzled by the old woman’s answer. “I feel fine.” She watched as the ice began to hiss and melt in Aisa’s palms. The bowl came apart, reduced to a pile of ceramic shards in her lap. 

“Are you sure about that?” Aisa responded, staring up at Maera with a curious gaze. “Nothing feels...off here?” She tapped a finger at Maera’s forehead. “Or...here?” she added, pointing the same finger over her heart.

“I…” Maera quieted. She began to see where Aisa was going with this.

“You are unwell, Maera.” Aisa stated once more. “Your mind is unravelling, and it’s adversely affecting your connection to the eventualities.” Her palms began to glow with a pale blue light, and the shards began to shift back to their place. “You need help,” she added.

“What kind of help?” Maera asked. “Do I need to find a healer?” She watched as Aisa’s fingers flexed and spun, weaving strands of lights in between the ceramic pieces. 

“No. The kind of help you need cannot be given by your average healer.” Aisa replied, her eye focused on the bowl in her care. “An apothecari might be able to provide you something to help ease some symptoms, like numb your mind with droga. But what you need to resolve your problems will have to come primarily from yourself.” She glanced at her for a moment. “With guidance, of course,” she added.

“I see…” Maera watched as the cracks in the bowl began to mend, but not seamlessly. The light being woven from Aisa’s fingers appeared to act as an adhesive, filling the gaps between the fragments. Upon becoming whole, the light began to fade from the cracks, leaving behind a pearlescent material. “How long do you think it could take?”

Aisa glanced at her, before looking down at the remnants of their meal. With a wave of her hand, both bowls and Aisa’s spoon were whisked away into a nearby wooden basin filled with soapy water. She snapped her fingers, and the water began to bubble and boil. She covered the cauldron with its lid, and stood up. Nearby, a walking staff lying against the wall shifted for a moment, before flying right into Aisa’s outstretched hand. 

“Come with me,” she responded flatly, before walking towards the door, wooden staff clacking.

Maera heard the ruffling of feathers, and both Gin and Nin flew to Aisa like children tailing their mother, with each one perched on each shoulder. Maera stood up and followed her. 

Aisa guided her back through the hall, passing the antechamber and climbing down an unfamiliar set of stairs. The path they took led them deep into the mountain, passing additional rooms, halls, and passages lined with braziers, lit by either flame or magelights of varying colors. The further down they went, Maera found the air becoming warmer, eventually forcing her to remove her cloak. She was surprised to find that every area they came across was also carved and smoothed out in the same fashion as the rooms above. Some were empty, save for the odd shallow bodies of water, creeping moss and plant life. Others held broken and worn out structures and furnishings, primarily made of stone, crude metal or faded ceramic.

“Aisa...” Maera breathed, curious at the sight. “What is this place?

“What remains of a lost people,” Aisa answered, her staff tapping on the stone beneath her with each step. “Long lost and forgotten,” she added, her voice faint with sadness. She glanced over her shoulder. “Come, down this way.” 

The crone led Maera through what appeared to be a large archway. The entrance was marked by standing braziers on each side, lit with pale blue flames. As they ventured further down the magelit path, she could hear the faint sounds of flowing water and feel the warmth in the air begin to intensify. 

“You may want to remove that outer vest of yours as well, by the way,” Aisa remarked, removing her shawl. “It gets quite warm down here.” Maera did as she was instructed.

The chamber they entered was dark and the air was thick with a soothing heat. Standing next to Aisa at the entrance, Maera could hear the water clearly, rippling and streaming with the chiming sounds of droplets spattering upon stone. The old woman raised her hand and with a snap of her fingers, the room began to light up. 

Amber magelights sparked to life on the braziers lining the walls, cascading inwards from where they stood. Numerous, natural hot springs and fountains were laid out before them, varying in size and depth. Each was divided and bordered by water-worn rock formations, winding and leading to the middle of the chamber. The center platform - raised higher than the other pathways - had its edges lined with natural stone pillars. Its surface was engraved with worn yet oddly familiar markings. 

Removing her shoes by the door, Aisa set her shawl down before making her way towards the platform. As she approached it, she raised a hand and her palm glowed with bright iridescent light. Maera watched as the air began to glimmer in intervals all around the room, with crystalline barriers flickering with each flourish of the old woman’s hand.

More wards.

Gin and Nin flew off from Aisa’s shoulders, perching themselves on whatever ledges they could find overlooking the center platform. Sitting down at the edge of the markings, the old woman glanced at Maera, who remained at the entrance. “Are you coming?”

“Oh. Right.”

Slipping out of her boots, Maera folded her cloak and tunic and placed them on the floor, leaving on her blouse and pants. She slowly retraced the same path Aisa took, taking care to ensure she did not slip into one of the pools. The closer she came to the platform, she could not help but eye the carvings.

“Are those...phasmalism markings?” Maera asked.

“Not quite,” Aisa replied, looking down at the pattern before them. “These are older. Much older.” She gestured to the spot directly opposite of her. “Have a seat, child.” 

As Maera did as she was told, Aisa guided her attention to the circular pattern before them.

“These markings,” the crone began, “are those of old magic, where its practice predates any schools known in this era. Like those who used to wield it, its knowledge has been lost long ago.” She gestured to the room around them. “The people that once dwelled in this city used this chamber as a place of healing and meditation, for both mind, body, and soul.” Aisa then gazed back at her. “They also used this place to commune with the spirits of their ancestors and seek guidance from the gods.”

“The gods?” Maera asked, “You mean the Light-born?”

Aisa scoffed and her lips curled in disgust. “Those were not gods,” she remarked dismissively. “Those your people called the “Light-born” were merely children gifted with strong connections to the eventualities, much like yourself. Only their own arrogance saw themselves fit to play as gods.” Her expression then softened and she cast her eye around the room once more. “No. The gods I am referring to are… well…” Aisa’s voice trailed off into a weary sadness, before she bowed her head to return her focus on Maera. “Hmm.. nevermind that for now,” she murmured. “We have more pressing matters to deal with.”

Maera gave her a subtle nod. “Right. So…” She looked down. “These markings…”

Aisa hands began to glow with a soft white light. “These markings - this whole chamber, rather - will make it easier for me to assist you and the souls trapped within your mind,” she answered plainly. “Well, more specifically, it’ll make it easier on  _ you _ , since it’s going to be quite difficult for you once I start...hm...” The old woman paused for a moment, before adding, “... releasing them.”

“Wait…” Maera glanced up at Aisa. “Why would you need to do that?” she asked, “I didn’t trap them, I just…”

“Started picking them up like stray puppies and kittens off the street? Without next to no knowledge on how to properly care - no - safely handle them?”

“I- hm…” Maera hushed herself. It did not occur to her until that moment, but Aisa brought up a very important point. “I just… when I found them…”

“You... ‘just couldn’t leave them there’?” Aisa remarked in amusement, raising a curious brow before clasping her palms together. As she pulled them apart, the glow had shifted to threads of light emanating between her fingertips. “You know,” she began ponderously, “most practicing phasmalists choose to bind the soul they capture to an object of sorts, usually a talisman.” She flexed her fingers, and the threads weaved together. “It would grant them the ability to summon the soul as a spectral manifestation of its mortal form, bound to their master’s will.”

“I know that,” Maera replied, indignant. “I just…” she trailed off, contemplating the right words.

_‘Come to think of it, I have been wondering what we’re all doing here,’_ one pondered in her mind.

_‘She found me in a cave,’_ another remarked. _‘I’ll be honest. Being here is definitely an improvement from staring at rocks for the last century.‘_

_ ‘I don’t even remember how long it’s been since I died. All I remember is being trapped underwater until she picked me up.’ _

_ ‘Can all of you please be quiet? I’m trying to think.’ _

“What? Don’t understand how to do it properly?” Aisa glanced up at her, before casting the threads down upon the carvings beneath them. They shimmered with a soft, yellow light. “I’m surprised, child, given what you’ve been able to learn so far on your own,” she remarked casually, marking unfamiliar runes between the curves and lines with her glowing fingertips.

“No. I…” Maera gazed down as she felt the light shift from yellow to a cool green, sending a soothing sensation through her skin. “I know how to do it. It’s just…When I was reading more about phasmalism and what it entails…” She glanced back up at Aisa. “Look, I’m not exactly a saint when it comes to my newfound abilities,” she muttered, “I’ve messed with people’s minds, paralyzed them, and outright killed them if it meant I could get a job done.” She sighed before looking down at her palms. “But...something about enslaving someone’s soul, imprisoning them within some inanimate object, forcing them to do your bidding for as long as you lived...” Maera grimaced, and held herself tightly. The thought stirred a burning ache in her belly.

“Hmm. Well...” Aisa smirked as she continued to write. “I am not one to pass judgement on you. I’ve done my share of…well... I suppose what others would deem terrible things.” 

The last of the threads filled the engravings beneath them. As their light shifted from green back to white, Maera could feel the discomfort in her stomach ease and fade. She also felt the stiffness once present in her limbs dissipate, as though being washed away. “So… these glyphs you’ve written on the floor...” she breathed, curious as she watched 

“Do two things,” Aisa answered. “One, they reconfigure the platform to display the state of the patient - in this case, you. Two, they allow me to preemptively store some of my own magic for later use while I focus my attention elsewhere,” she explained. ”In other words, they enable me to temporarily ease whatever pain you have all over here,” Aisa remarked, gesturing her hands up and down her own body as an example. “So we can focus on the pain here…” she added, taping a finger right in the middle of Maera’s forehead.

“Hey!” Maera cried in protest, rubbing her forehead. “What was that for?”

From her, Aisa had pulled a tiny, jade hued wisp of light. “Just taking an impression of your soul, my dear. Don’t worry,” the old woman replied nonchalantly. The little wisp hovered above her palm, and she eyed it curiously. Its light pulsed, blinking erratically between shimmering brightness and swirling darkness before dissipating. Aisa closed her palm and looked back at Maera. “Tell me child, how many souls have you taken into your care?”

“I…” Maera thought for a moment.  _ ‘How many of you are there…?’ _

_‘Six?’_ one of the souls pondered.

_ ‘No, seven,’  _ another replied.

_ ‘No, there are six of us,’  _ argued one more.

_ ‘I could’ve sworn there was one more...’ _

_ ‘Same. Granted, that fella is not much of a talker.’ _

“I… I’m not sure,” Maera finally answered, “Six? Seven?” She gave Aisa a sheepish look. 

Aisa stared at her. “Blazing hells, child,” she mumbled, covering her face with her palm.

“Is… that bad?” Maera asked, her voice small.

“Well, my dear, it’s certainly not ideal,” Aisa replied with a sigh. “No wonder your connections are destabilizing so drastically…”

“I don’t understand…” Maera remarked in confusion. “I thought having a poor or weak Glance...er… connections to the Sea of Eventualities would hinder my magic, not have it manifesting out of my control.”

“Your connections are not poor or weak, child. Far from it,” Aisa returned, staring at Maera with her piercing yellow eye, “You  _ in particular _ have immensely strong connections, and with each day that passes they are becoming stronger.” The old woman looked up, stroking her chin ponderously. “I suspect it has something to do with your aura. It’s quite different compared to most,” she noted.

“That’s what Lishari thought when we first met,” Maera recalled, “She’s the friend who designed the warding spell for my mind.”

“Ah yes. The bright one.” 

“Mhm,” Maera nodded, before adding, “So…what’s wrong with my connections being so strong? Isn’t that a good thing for an arcanist?”

“The problem,” Aisa resumed, “is that in order for one to properly manipulate the eventualities, one needs a strong and healthy mind to focus on both maintaining and controlling those connections. But you, my dear child...” Aisa poked her lightly in the middle of her forehead. “You have quite a lot of untreated turmoil in there. Lots of anguish and frustration built up over your lifetime.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Maera responded instantly, “What arcanist - what human being - doesn’t suffer on a daily basis in some way?” She crossed her arms, and stared skeptically at Aisa. “I know there are plenty of people who struggle in their day-to-day lives. Some are better off. Many others are faring far worse.” She tilted her head to the side. “It’s life. What do my daily struggles have to do with my control over magic?”

“Please let me finish, dear,” Aisa offered gently. Lifting a hand forward. she swirled her forefinger above one of the pivots in the glyphs. 

It began to emanate brightly with wispy, pale blue smoke. 

“Once again, to properly navigate the Sea, one requires a calm and healthy mind,” Aisa explained, guiding the brilliant light along the paths. She opened up her hand and the light split up, travelling smoothly throughout the carvings. She raised her other hand with fingers outstretched, and slowly turned her wrists. “If one suffers from troubles of the mind…” she added, as the lights weakened, losing their hue and slowing down. “One must be properly trained and focused to offset the effect of those ailments..” The hand guiding the light closed into a fist. The color was restored and the lights returned to their previous pace.

Maera observed Aisa release her hands from channeling, before returning a hand to one of the pivots. 

“Now, with an untrained mind...” She began her cast once again, and from the node formed a light that fizzled and sparked, rather than simmer steadily with smoke. “An arcanist would normally struggle to focus on their connections…” She guided the light, but as it began to move, it was slow and could only split into parts of a split path. Maera also noticed that in some engravings, the light reversed, or simply faltered before fading away. “Ultimately, in most cases, they would fail to reach the eventuality they require to conjure a spell.” 

Maera looked up as Aisa once again stopped her hands. As the engravings became clear, the old woman took one glance at her, and in a swift motion, tapped her gently on her forehead. From it, Aisa once again pulled out a verdant, iridescent wisp.

“With you, on the other hand, the situation is different.” Aisa took the little green light and clasped her hand around it, weaving it into strands before laying them out over the markings. 

The light within carvings changed to the jade hue, before emanating with a brilliance far greater than anything Maera had seen so far. 

“Due to the nature of what you are, you are capable of reaching an immense range of eventualities, and thus, a greater well of magical capabilities.” Without any of Aisa’s prompting, the center pivot flashed, before splitting up wildly throughout the carvings. “However, at the same time, compared to someone with your level of power, you have relatively next to no formal training, and thus have no proper tools developed to cope with whatever stress or challenges you face,” As multiple wisps travelled through, the lines and curves began to crackle and hiss, as though filled with fire. “This…suffice to say… is not ideal.”

Maera glanced up at Aisa. The old woman was not casting or channeling as she did before, insteading her eye was simply observing the display before them. Maera looked back down as her lights continued to behave erratically, bouncing between and shooting past the pivots. Their movements grew faster and faster, and after a time the lights began to warp into darkness, losing all its hue but somehow none of its brilliance. The friction their movements formed in some areas began to spark violently, bursting and crackling like tiny blackened wildfires.

“As you can see,” Aisa concluded, “With a deeply anguished and ill mind, your connections are exceptionally volatile and unpredictable.”

“I think I understand,” Maera offered, “But what does that have to do with the souls I’ve gathered?”

“It’s simple, really. They’re a distraction. Additional noise that your mind has to work through that much harder in order to maintain normal functions.”

_ ‘Did she just call us noisy?’ _ one asked curiously.

_‘Hush. Let the old woman speak,'_ replied another.

Aisa’s piercing yellow eye stared right into her, as though searching for something. “Listen, I understand why you did it. But despite your intentions in saving those lost souls, you’ve done more harm than good, especially to yourself.” She leaned over and gently tapped her fingers once again on Maera’s forehead. This time, she withdrew a number of wisps - seven, to be precise. With a flick of her wrists, the wisps overlaid themselves upon the shadowlit carvings. “By collecting so many souls without knowing how to properly handle them - by allowing them to take up residence in your mind rather than finding a way to send them off from the mortal coil to the next - you have crippled your mind's ability to maintain stable connections to the eventualities.”

The lights immediately began to travel alongside the same pathways as hers, disrupting their movements and even colliding into them, triggering greater bursts of energy. Maera shifted back, as one of the paths sparked and sizzled a little too close to her legs. She glanced up at Aisa. “I…” she stammered, “I had no idea.”

“Mhm. In short...” Aisa tapped her own head. “The more voices you have running around in here, the more stress your mind endures, the more it struggles to process your pain and trauma in a healthy way, and the more you struggle to maintain control on your connections to the Sea."

“I…” Maera bit her lips. “I still cannot see how they’re-”

“You’ve been hearing them, have you not?” Aisa asked, gently, “Their voices?”

Maera gave her a silent, uneasy nod.

“Those voices you are hearing are hindering your ability to reflect and examine the state of your mind,” Aisa explained, “This unfortunately leads to whatever illnesses or pain you incur becoming neglected and accumulating over time. The longer you keep those souls within you, the more difficult it will be for your mind to process and recover from any trauma you endure. And you, my dear, have quite a lot of it.”

“What are you talking about?” Maera did not like where the crone was going.

With a wave of her hand, the circle reset, returning to its soft, pale glow. Aisa reached over, resting a hand on Maera’s shoulder. She stared into the younger woman’s eyes. “I’ve seen into your mind, child,” she murmured quietly. “Since you’ve arrived in Enderal, I’ve caught glimpses of your memories, your dreams and your nightmares, both from the present and the past.” Her face softened with pity. “You have… quite a significant amount...”

Maera’s eyes widened as she felt a mortified chill rush up her spine. She pushed Aisa’s hand away and shoved her back. “You…I thought,” she shuddered, staring at the old woman in disbelief. “I mean… know you could see the wards Lishari placed on my mind but… to dive deep into my head like that.” Maera held herself once again. “I was already uncomfortable with the idea of you using your birds to spy me. But going through my thoughts and memories like some open book...” She glared at Aisa, hissing angrily, “You had no right.”

“My dear, I am trying to help you,” Aisa argued, straightening her clothes as she sat back. “Whether you want to believe it or not. You are unravelling, and it shows quite literally with your involuntary outbursts of magic.”

“That still does not justify you invading my mind like that...” Maera grumbled, her teeth still clenched.

“What would you have me do? Ask nicely?” Aisa asked sarcastically. “You are a horrifying accident waiting to happen. Had I not dragged you out here into the mountains and put the wards in place...” The old woman stopped herself. She closed her eyes and sighed, “Look… we can argue this another time. Do you want me to help you or not?”

Maera clenched her jaw anxiously and continued to hug herself for comfort. Knowing Aisa could see into her mind like that - delving into her most intimate thoughts and memories - without her knowledge absolutely terrified her. Sure, the old witch was offering her help now, but what would stop her from turning Maera’s mind against her or those she cared about?

Then again, if what Aisa explained to her is true, Maera was becoming - has become - a danger to herself and everyone around her.

What other choice did she have?

“ _ Fine. _ ” Maera spat resentfully. “What do you plan to do to me?” 

Aisa's lips curled and thinned in annoyance. She evidently did not like the change in tone coming from the younger woman, but Maera could not care less.

"Well, for starters,” Aisa began, her voice calm, ”I have to extract those souls from you." She lifted her arms in front of her, with palms facing down and fingers stretched out. Wavering her torso slowly from side to side, Aisa began to shift her arms in a stirring lyrical motion. "Releasing them would clear your mind, allowing you the means to once again process any untreated turmoil that is destabilizing your connections to the Sea." The engravings began to emit fine, pale wisps of smoke, guided by the dance of the old woman’s hands to trail along the edges of the circle. "However, doing so will take quite some time and it will not be easy, especially given the number of souls you have."

"How so?"

"The ritual I have to perform is an old yet intricate spell. It was designed as a burial rite for the dead whose souls struggled to leave their bodies, hindering them from passing on,” Aisa explained, resting her hands on her lap. The smoke around them continued to trail and meander around them, drifting in wait. "In your case, while the ritual only needs some minor modification, it requires a significantly greater amount of care. I can only take out one soul at a time and I must be careful not to remove yours by accident."

Maera felt a nervous lump form in her throat, but swallowed it down. “Yes… please don’t.”

"Hmph. Don’t worry, child. This spell is meant to target the souls of the dead specifically. It is very unlikely your soul will be separated from your body. That said…'' Aisa glanced around them, guiding Maera’s attention to their surroundings. “While I have taken extra precautions to protect you and your soul with the aid of this chamber, its runes, and the wards I have put in place, I must warn you that the whole process will nonetheless be immensely taxing on you... physically, mentally, and spiritually." Her lips thinned. "There may also be a number of... side effects."

"What kind of side effects?"

Aisa glanced down at the glyphs before them, before tilting her head to the side, looking back up at her. "To be honest, my dear,” she sighed, “I do not know. This ritual was designed for the dead, not the living."

Maera did not like what she was hearing.

"I don't think I have to inform you that due to the unpredictable nature of this... operation, you must stay up here in the mountains with me so I can oversee your recovery."

Most definitely not.

"For how long…?" Maera asked, fearful she already knows the answer.

"I do not know. That depends on you, frankly."

Maera grimaced. She was beginning to have second thoughts. She wanted to go home - back to her soft warm bed, back to her alchemy table, back to the life she had just started for herself. She wanted to see her friends again. She wanted to be there just in case…

_‘No. Forget him,’_ one of the souls uttered. _‘Remember how he hurt you.’_

_‘You have a kind heart, mydame,’_ another spoke, _‘You deserve someone better.’_

The others murmured in agreement.

Nonetheless, Maera’s heart ached, longing for home.

For him.

“Well?” Aisa gazed at her, a brow raised.

_‘What do I do?’_ Maera asked herself, before her directing her to those within her mind. _‘How do you all feel about this?’_

_ ‘Well… if we technically don’t belong here,’  _ one offered.

_ ‘And we either continue to make you sick, or end up bound within some flimsy piece of jewelry,’  _ another added.

_ ‘I would like to move on from this world. It’s too depressing.’ _

_ ‘But what does lie on the other side?’ _

_ ‘Maybe I’ll get to see my wife again.’ _

_ ‘My son...’ _

_ ‘...’ _

Maera looked up at Aisa. "Fine," she answered firmly.

Aisa nodded. "Mhm. Very well then." She raised her arms again, and resumed their channeling dance. “Do any of them wish to volunteer first?”

_‘Anyone?’_ Maera’s called out to them within her mind. All of them remained silent. She could sense their uncertainty.

“No?” Aisa asked, which Maera responded with a shake of her head. “Okay. I’ll pick then.”

“What?” Before Maera could react, Aisa’s eyes - including the one under the eyepatch - began to glow, their brilliant golden light directly shining into hers. Maera could feel the old woman staring right into her mind, weaving around and reaching towards the others within.

It felt like she was in there for years.

_ ‘You.’  _ Aisa’s voice finally emerged, echoing softly in Maera’s head. ‘ _ Come.’ _

_‘Oh… me?’_ one of the souls gasped. _‘Why me?’_

_ ‘Fate does not need to give a reason. It simply chooses.’ _

_ ‘But I…’  _ the soul began to falter.  _ ‘I don’t know…’ _

_‘Go on,’_ spoke another. _‘Maybe you’ll get to see you son after all.’_

_‘Will I, mydame?’_ the soul asked Aisa, pleading. _‘Will I get to see my baby boy again?’_

_‘That I cannot promise you, my child,’_ Aisa answered truthfully, _‘Wherever your soul may travel is not for me to decide. I can only offer the possibility.’_

_ ‘I… alright then.’  _

In her mind, Maera felt the soul reach out to her. A hand that was not there gently touched her shoulder. 

_ ‘Thanks, mydame... for saving me from that crypt.’ _

Aisa’s voice echoed again in her mind. 

_ ‘It is time.’ _

The crone began to chant in the physical world. Her voice reverberating and humming a lyrical hymn in a language Maera could not begin to recognize. Around them, the once meandering pearlescent smoke began to shimmer, its luminescence intensifying with each chorus.

Just as Maera was about to respond to the departing soul...

Something flashed before her eyes. A loud, buzzing surged through her mind, followed by a deafening thunderous crack.

Her vision went white.

It all came at once.

Maera screamed.

\---

Pain surged through her body. Her heart throbbed painfully in her chest. Blood poured from where the arrows struck, gushing at the same rate as her terrified pulse. Around her, horrified screaming and yelling. The beast snarling and howling. The sickening sounds of breaking bones and ripping flesh filled her ears in the heavy rain.

Another snap.

Her head pulsated in agony. Her vision blurring as they were surrounded by the undead. Her arms ached terribly, her muscles straining from the effort of keeping the creatures at bay. Him lying there, bleeding out from his neck.

She began to fall.

They surrounded her - their faces familiar but their voices monstrous. They mocked her. Toyed with her. Burned her soul alive.

She felt herself drowning.

He stared back at her in the depths. His blood still flowed from the gaping wound in his chest. In his eyes, she could see his despair, his terror, but they held no life.

She sank deeper.

All she could see was darkness. Her body ached and burned. Someone pulled at her hair. Others pulled at her elsewhere. One particularly cruel held her down by her neck.

The flames surrounded her.

She watched it all burn. She watched them all burn. Tears poured from her eyes. She looked at their mangled, charred corpses, before resting her sights upon his. 

The iron in her hand burned. 

She held it in her mouth, and began to climb.

His remains were still warm. His bones burned her terribly.

Maera did not care. 

She pulled herself up by his bones and cooked flesh, ignoring the pain as the broken pieces scraped at her skin. Steadying her feet on his hip bones, she grabbed him by his collar, still moist with blood. With one hand, she took the iron out of her mouth.

_ ‘Father...’ _

With a scream, Maera drove the iron into his skull.

Right through the eye socket.

Again and again.

His bones snapped and cracked from the iron and her fury.

Stab. Stab. Stab.

Maera continued to scream and cry. 

Her throat stung.

Something ripped.

She began to fall.

\---

_ ‘Do something!’  _ From her palm, the soul trembled, as though crying out to her.

Aisa simply watched, overseeing the sight before her.

_ ‘Please, can’t you see she’s in pain?!’  _ the soul begged, their voice pleading in her mind.

Before them, Maera writhed and whimpered, lying on her side with tears falling and eyes white with a brilliant golden glow. She reminded Aisa of a sleeping dog having a nightmare.

_ ‘You wanted to help her! So help her!’ _

_ “Silence.” _ Aisa muttered with a hiss, quieting the soul.

She had to see this through. 

They both had to.

It was part of the process.

Once Aisa had finished the incantation, Maera’s eyes had begun to glow and she released a blood-curdling scream. She then collapsed on the ground before them, seizing and succumbing to whatever assaulted her mind. The aura of the glyphs and engravings beneath her continued to dance wildly, flashing with colors and lights. 

Orange. Purple. Red. Blue. Black. Orange. Red.

Indicators of the trappings of her mind.

So much anguish.

So much rage.

So much pain.

_ ‘Please….’  _ the soul cried again.  ‘She doesn’t deserve this...’

Aisa ignored them. She did not have to explain herself.

The child needed this.

Maera’s breathing began to quicken.

She let out a desperate gasp. She choked.

She vomited out water.

“Interesting…” Aisa murmured.

_ ‘Is… that supposed to happen?’ _

Both Gin and Nin began to caw anxiously.

_ ‘My lady…’  _ Nin began.

_ ‘Do you hear that?’  _ Gin added.

Nearby, something shattered, then another.

Aisa swiftly turned her eye to look at the wards she had placed in the chamber. A couple had been completely destroyed. Others were trembling, shuddering from the unseen force that was assaulting it.

“She’s breaking them…” Aisa observed. Around them, the ground began to shake. The simmering pools around them began to bubble and boil. The moisture in the air stung and burned. Aisa returned her attention back to Maera. She was now convulsing.

She choked again, sputtering droplets onto the stone.

_ Blood. _

“Huh.”

_ ‘Help her!’  _ the soul cried out.

Before they could repeat themselves, Aisa encased the soul in a shimmering bubble, and thrusted it across the pools to the entrance of the chamber.

“Gin. Nin. Go,” she commanded. The twins followed the bubbled soul to safety without protest.

Aisa moved forwards and pulled Maera into her arms, cradling the young woman as gently as she could in her lap. As her free hand began to fill with a white, pearlescent glow, she formed a thick, crystalline dome around them, covering the top of the platform.

Outside, the chaos in the chamber calmed. But within, sparks of electricity and hot air swirled violently around them. She flinched; her skin stung from the spikes and elemental fluctuations of the reality around them. 

Aisa held Maera against her, rocking back and forth. She began another chant.

A lullaby in her native tongue.

A song of night.

In her arms, Maera continued to writhe in agony, eyes shimmering with both tears and light. The air around them began to lose its charge, and the glow underneath them began to fade. Aisa held onto her. Her free hand now rested upon the young woman’s head, emitting a cooling spell to ease her feverish mind.

“Dear child…” Aisa murmured softly. “Can you hear me?”

The glow began to fade from her eyes, revealing deep, emerald green irises once again. Maera began to come to. Her pupils readjusted to the light in the room.

“Maera?”

The young woman swiftly responded with a fist to the old woman’s face.


End file.
